


Secrets, Spies, and Family Ties

by Brihna



Series: Secrets, Spies, and Family Ties [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), London Spy
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Danny and Q are brothers, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Skyfall, Pre-SPECTRE, Q has cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brihna/pseuds/Brihna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Danny Holt shows up on Q's doorstep, he is unprepared for the tale he has to tell. Is MI6 really responsible for the death of Danny's partner, or is there more to these strange happenings than meets the eye? Q must decide just how far he is willing to go to help his brother find the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have set this post Skyfall but pre Spectre. Danny is 26 and Q is 33. Our story begins just hours after Danny finds the body in the attic, so if you've yet to see London Spy, I'm afraid you might be a little lost. I have plans for this story to be around four chapters, but you never know.
> 
> I blame Brilcrist and her amazing art entirely for this 00Q hell I find myself in. This is my first writing venture into that universe. I hope you like it!

Q stifled a yawn as he shuffled along the pavement, his messenger bag knocking against his thigh as he trekked the last few hundred feet toward home. Initially walking had seemed like a pleasant idea, a way for him to bring himself down off the adrenaline high of running comms so that he had some hope of sleeping tonight. Not that this latest mission hadn't gone smoothly- insofar as Bond managed to gather the intel without getting shot or blowing anything up. But as was always the case when Q ran comms for 007, he was convinced the older man was trying to keep him on his toes. There were far too many close calls than he himself deemed necessary, and so the walk home, he thought, would be a good way to unwind. Now he wished he'd just taken a bloody cab. It was late and all he wanted was to collapse into bed. As he slipped through the wrought iron gate that led to his front door, all thoughts of his bed suddenly evaporated as he caught sight of a dark figure crouched on his front step.

Q froze where he stood, suddenly wishing he had accepted the security detail his colleagues continuously insisted upon. But as the shadowed figure lifted his head, bringing a familiar mop of dark hair and grey blue eyes into the light, his moment of panic shifted to something else entirely. Q blinked owlishly behind his glasses, making certain this apparition hadn't been manifested by a sleep deprived mind. His vision only became clearer. As the figure stared up at him from his perch, seemingly rooted to the spot, he finally found his voice.

"Danny?"

The young man rose unsteadily to his feet, eyeing him warily.

Q moved closer, suddenly struck by the haunted look in those grey blue eyes. "Danny, what's happened?" he asked, growing more anxious the longer the young man remained silent.

Danny lowered his gaze, wringing his hands together nervously. "I'm sorry," he answered thickly. "I don't know what I'm doing. I just didn't know where else to go." His eyes were shining as he lifted his head. "Ethan-"

Q closed the distance between them, pulling the younger man into his arms. As his shoulders began to shake with sobs, he tightened his hold, one hand reaching up to pet his hair.

"Danny, are you hurt?" he asked after a moment's silence.

He shook his head against his shoulder.

"Are you in trouble?"

He hesitated.

Q pulled back, holding him at arm's length so he could search his face. "Danny-"

"I don't know," he answered. "It's all fucked up."

Q sighed. "Come inside," he said, patting his cheek. "We'll get it sorted."

Once they were through the door, Q deftly re-enabled his security systems before hanging both their jackets in the front closet. He led Danny through to the living room where he sunk into the sofa cushions. He was strangely quiet now. Q gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, prompting him to meet his eye.

"I'll make us some tea," said Q. And he padded off to the kitchen.

He returned some moments later with two steaming mugs in hand- a chamomile blend he was fond of on late nights in. In the doorway he paused, smiling warmly at the sight that greeted him. Danny sat with his legs crossed on the sofa, stroking the fur of the fluffy white cat that had taken up residence in his lap.

"I see you've met Pascal," said Q, setting the mugs on the table and taking a seat beside him.

"He's very friendly," Danny answered, allowing a small smile.

Q hummed his agreement, reaching over to scratch between Pascal's ears. The cat was purring like a small engine beneath his hand. "Yes, Pascal is certainly the more affectionate of the two," he mused. "Turing is a bit shy, but I'm sure he'll soon make an appearance."

For a moment the two sat in silence, sipping their tea. Danny's expression grew somber once more, a storm brewing behind grey blue eyes.

"Danny," prompted Q, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me what's happened."

Danny hung his head, gazing down at Pascal still purring contentedly in his lap. ""It's a long story," he said. "I'm not sure where to start."

He gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Then start from the beginning."

* * *

Q barely breathed a word as Danny recounted the events of the past several months; the chance meeting on the bridge with a man who had captivated him with three simple words. Afternoon walks and talk of soul mates. The season of doubt until both of them realized that they were right where they wanted to be. And just when everything seemed perfect Alex had vanished. Until tonight.

It was nearly midnight when Danny finished his tale, both mugs cold and forgotten on the table. Q sat in stunned silence as he let it all sink in, one arm draped across Danny's shoulders and absently stroking his hair.

At some point Turing had deigned to make an appearance; the grey short hair curled on top of Q's messenger bag on the floor as if he were the sole guardian of the contents within. Emerald green eyes blinked up at Q as if challenging him to remove him. Q simply remained staring straight ahead, long fingers trailing through Danny's hair.

"I'm sorry I've been such a lousy brother," said Danny softly, leaning heavily against his shoulder. "Three years without a word and I show up on your doorstep in the middle of the night."

Q shook his head sadly, feeling a sudden pang of guilt in his chest. "I'm the one who should say sorry," he said. "I'm the eldest. I should've done a better job of looking after you."

"It's not your job to be dad, Ethan," he replied, giving him a pointed look. "Besides, it's not like you knew where I was."

 _But I could've found you_ , thought Q sadly. He sighed. "Still."

"I just didn't want to go home," said Danny. "Not after…"

"Who says you have to?"

"I can sleep on the sofa."

"You will do no such thing," Q answered firmly. "There's a perfectly good spare bedroom upstairs just down from mine. It's yours whenever you like."

He could feel the tension release in the set of the younger man's shoulders as he absorbed his words.

"Thank you, Ethan."

He smiled. "What are big brothers for?"

The pair lapsed into easy silence until Q thought that Danny had actually fallen asleep against his shoulder. Pascal seemed content to remain in his perch on Danny's lap, still purring away. Turing finally abandoned Q's bag, striding over to rub against his leg before joining them on the sofa. Q scratched between his ears absently.

Danny shifted. "I don’t think I can sleep. Or if I really want to." He sat up and reached for his mug, now ice cold. "I think I need something stronger than tea," he said half to himself.

Q's mouth quirked into an impish grin. "I think that can be arranged."

* * *

Danny was surprised by his brother's easy offer, after all he'd never known him to be much of a drinker. He was even more surprised at the selection. He never imagined the elder having a taste for scotch, and this was quite an expensive brand. But he chose not to question it. All he cared about tonight was drinking himself to oblivion. Anything to drive away the images that haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

He wasn't sure what drove him to his brother's door after he had estranged himself for so long. Truth be told, he went to Scottie first. The older man knew Alex, had spoken with him before. Danny had hoped he might help him make some sort of sense of it all. But Scottie, dear friend though he was, had offered little comfort; filling his head with thoughts of government conspiracy, making him question how well he really knew Alex at all. He didn't tell him about the cylindrical object he had taken from the crime scene.

When he left Scottie's, he wandered the city not wanting to return to his flat and all the memories it would bring, his bed that still smelled like Alex. He thought about stopping in some pub, but he didn't have much money and doubted that drinking alone in a public place would end well for him. And so his feet had carried him to this familiar street. He honestly wasn't sure if Ethan still lived in the house, or what sort of reception he'd receive if he did. How would he take to him showing up on his doorstep after so long without so much as a word? Would he be angry? Would he send him away? One look at Ethan's face as he recognized the figure on his front step and he realized how stupid he'd been. His brother loved him. In spite of everything.

It made him feel immensely guilty for the way he'd behaved the last few years; for not so much as letting him know he was still alive. As the two sat in the kitchen, laughing easily over their drinks, he knew why he came here. Because Ethan always seemed to know exactly what he needed. If he needed to talk, he listened. If he wanted advice, he gave it freely. If he didn't want to talk but didn't want to be alone, he would sit with him in silence, offering comfort simply by his presence. Maybe that's why he had stayed away. With Ethan he felt transparent. He couldn't fool his brother with a quip and an easy smile like he did his friends. He always saw past it.

Ethan set the bottle of scotch out of reach before they could do too much more damage, his own glass still half full in his hand. He didn't say a word as Danny relieved him of it, downing the rest in one go. He simply took him by the arm and led him gently toward the stairs, the younger man suddenly feeling quite unsteady on his feet.

Danny collapsed on the bed in the guest room, only vaguely aware of being helped out of his shoes before shucking his jeans and leaving them in a heap on the floor. Ethan slipped from the room, returning a moment later to set a glass of water on the nightstand and a bin beside the bed. He helped him under the covers, lingering just a moment to press a kiss to his forehead before slipping quietly from the room. Danny was asleep before he made it down the hall.

* * *

He awoke in the dark, mouth dry and stone cold sober. The clock beside the bed read 4:17AM in glaring red numbers. Danny rolled onto his back and draped an arm across his eyes, suddenly cursing his high tolerance for alcohol. Dead eyes stared back at him behind closed lids. He sat bolt upright in bed, gasping in the darkness.

Bare feet settled on the cold wood floor. He reached for the glass of water by the bed and downed it, pressing the cool glass to his forehead once he'd finished. He sighed. If he was going to sleep any more tonight he was in need of further chemical assistance.

Danny slipped quietly into the hall wearing just his pants and rumpled t-shirt, keeping his steps light so as not to wake his host. He managed the trip down the stairs and into the kitchen with a minimal creaking of floorboards. The half empty bottle of scotch sat on the counter where they'd left it. As he reached up to retrieve a glass from the cabinet by the sink he paused, suddenly distracted by a small scraping sound somewhere behind him. Frowning, he closed the cupboard and moved cautiously toward the sound.

When the source of the scraping led him to the front door he froze, swallowing down a rising sense of panic. A shadowed figure was outlined through the glass panels beside the door. A rather large shadowed figure that was most definitely in the process of picking the lock on the door.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, backing towards the kitchen. "Shit, shit, shit." He heard the knob begin to turn just as he backed himself into the counter. Panicking, he turned to grab the first thing he could get his hands on- a frying pan hanging from the rack above him. Weapon in hand, he turned as the front door opened. The looming figure stepped inside and Danny swung.

As the man blocked the first blow with a heavily muscled forearm, he realized that this was a spectacularly bad idea. Arctic blue eyes fell upon him with surprise. Something gave him pause. Danny took advantage of the intruder's hesitation by taking another swing, but the man recovered quickly. He side stepped him with ease, catching his thin wrist in an iron grip.

"Easy," the man practically purred, wrenching the weapon from his grasp. As Danny futilely attempted to free himself from the man's bruising grip he suddenly felt much like a mouse being toyed with by a very large cat. He aimed a kick at his captor, which he dodged easily.

In one smooth motion, the man spun him around until his back was pressed against his chest, one arm locked around him and still gripping his wrist.

"Let me go!" demanded Danny, struggling against the weight pinning his arm across his chest.

"Only if you promise not to try and brain me with any more kitchen ware," said the man, his breath tickling his ear. It sounded as if he was _smiling_ , the smug bastard. He tried for elbowing him in the ribs with his free arm, but the man didn't even flinch.

"BOND! WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

The two froze as Ethan came thundering down the stairs, glasses askew and his hair sticking up all over. Even in his plaid pajama bottoms and rumpled t-shirt he looked positively murderous.

"Let him go this instant!"

Danny was a bit shocked when the intruder did exactly as he was told without hesitation and he suddenly found himself free of that iron grip. He quickly turned to the man, aiming a kick to his shin as he tried to wrest the frying pan from his grasp.

"Danny- Danny, it's alright," he heard Ethan's voice in his ear as he pulled him off the intruder with some difficulty before stepping between them. He turned to the man holding the frying pan aloft. "Bond, stay!"

The man blinked at Ethan, looking affronted.

Danny finally allowed himself to relax as Ethan slipped an arm protectively around his shoulders, glaring at the blond behind his glasses.

"He did try to hit me with a frying pan," said Bond, a bit chagrinned.

"Good," said Ethan, hugging Danny to him. "That's what you get for breaking into my house at arse-o-clock in the morning!"

He simple shrugged. "You haven't given me a key." He lowered his gaze somewhere below the younger man's waistline, mouth twitching in a smirk. "Is that a taser in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Ethan glared at him before reaching into his pocket to retrieve what- to Danny's surprise- was in fact a taser. He waived it threateningly at Bond. "Tread carefully. I haven't decided not to use it."

Bond held up his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. "Apologies, Q," he said smugly. He waved the frying pan. "I'm going to go put this away now. After that, would you care to introduce me to your double?" He didn't wait for a response before turning to the kitchen.

* * *

Q was going to kill him. Bloody Bond. He was supposed to still be out of the country. His flight home, he knew, wasn't until morning- he booked it himself. Instead, he stood in Q's kitchen, pouring a generous amount of scotch into a glass and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Q stopped glaring daggers at the man long enough to shift his gaze beside him. Danny, it seemed, was no worse for wear in spite of his attempted assault on a double-o agent. In fact, now that the danger had passed he looked rather intrigued by this turn of events. He kept glancing between Q and Bond expectantly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Q sighed inwardly.

People often underestimated his brother on an intellectual level, but he knew better. Danny was quite quick, especially when it came to reading people. He was practically a human lie detector. Needless to say, he expected that he'd figured out about the scotch- and everything else that implied.

Q cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the double-o in his kitchen. "James, this is my brother Danny. He's- going to be staying here for a bit." He spared him a sideways glance, silently seeking approval for the last statement. They hadn't really discussed it.

Danny smiled.

"Danny, this is-"

"Bond," the agent interjected, stepping forward to offer his hand. "James Bond. Pleasure to meet you, Danny."

"Likewise," said Danny, accepting the offered hand. "Sorry about the- um- frying pan. It's sort of been a long day."

James smiled. "No harm done."

"There," said Q. "Introductions made. Now I think it's best if we all get some sleep. We've had enough excitement for one day."

"Hang on, Ethan," Danny cut in smugly. "You haven't told me how you two know each other."

"Oh, he's not very good with labels," James answered, finishing his drink and setting the glass on the counter before striding over to invade Q's personal space. "Are you, _Ethan_?"

Q swallowed hard, suppressing the shiver that ran up his spine as James breathed his real name into his ear for the first time. He glanced at Danny- who was no help at all with that smug grin on his face.

"I- we're- well…" He flushed.

"I'm going upstairs to have a shower," James announced. He leaned in and stopped Q's mouth with his own, keeping him in place with one hand at the nape of his neck. He drew out the kiss until Q nearly felt his legs give out from under him and pulled back slowly. "Coming to bed?"

Q didn't find his voice in time to answer before the agent was halfway up the stairs. Beside him Danny was practically giddy.

" _Ethan_ ," he whined, looping an arm through his and giving it a tug. "Why didn't you _tell me_?"

"There's not much to tell," said Q, gathering himself. "We're not- I mean we're just-"

"Fucking?"

"Danny!" He flushed.

The younger man pinned him with his gaze.

Q swallowed. "Alright," he admitted. "Yes. But that's not the point-"

Danny cut him off by throwing his arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. For a moment Q worried he was going to cut off his air supply, but he finally released him.

"Ethan, I'm so happy for you," he said earnestly, his eyes a little misty. "You deserve to have someone who'll make you happy."

Q sighed. "Bond makes me many things," he grumbled.

"I mean it," said Danny, looking suddenly sad. "You should cherish it. Because you never know."

"Oh, Danny…"

"Just take my word for it," he said, taking his hands in his own. "Don't ever leave things left unsaid."

Q pulled him closer and hugged him tightly. "I love you very much. You know that?"

Danny hugged him tighter. "I love you too."

He smiled. "Don't you ever forget it."

* * *

Q was lying awake in bed, curled on his side when he heard the shower stop running. He was silently grateful he didn't have to go into work tomorrow. He was having a terrible time getting back to sleep. A few minutes later he felt the bed dip and a warm body pressed against his back. He felt breath on the back of his neck, a brush of lips as James began to press lazy kisses to his skin, trailing along the side of his throat. Callused fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to brush against his hip.

"Not tonight, James," said Q beneath closed lids. "I'm exhausted."

"Never stopped you before," James purred, scraping his teeth against his neck.

"I'm in no mood to be your post-mission fuck," he answered sharply.

James pulled back, propping himself up on one elbow behind him, on hand resting on his waist. "You're angry with me for bypassing your security systems. Again," he said.

He sighed. "Well, normal people don't break into their colleagues' houses," he admitted.

"I'd hardly call us normal," he smirked, squeezing his hip. "Or colleagues for that matter."

"Colleagues who have copious amounts of sex. I'm not the one who doesn't like labels," Q muttered.

James froze. "Is that what this is about?"

He sighed. "Forget it, James. It's been a long day and a particularly stressful evening and I am exhausted. It's not exactly the time to be discussing the terms of our relationship."

James cupped his chin, turning the younger man's head until he was forced to meet his gaze. Arctic blue eyes studied his face. To Q's surprise, he started to laugh.

Q frowned. "What's so funny?" he bristled, rolling onto his back to look at him better.

He shook his head. "You know, for a complete and total genius you really are an idiot sometimes." He reached down to brush Q's hair out of his eyes, his palm coming to rest against his cheek; a gesture far more gentle than one would've thought a double-o agent to be capable of. "Although the sex is fantastic, that's not why I always come back here," he said, brushing his thumb against his cheek. "I happen to be desperately in love with you."

For a moment Q simply stared at him, feeling the weight of the palm and against his cheek. He swallowed hard, feeling tears prick the edges of his eyes. "Really?"

James smiled. "Yes, really."

There was a brief pause and then Q was pulling him down, crushing their lips together in a hungry kiss. James chuckled for a moment and then responded in kind, trailing fingers through his hair. The kiss was only broken when Q remembered that he needed to breathe.

"Does this mean I can have a key?" said James against his throat.

Q laughed breathily. "I've already had one made," he said. "I was just-" his breath hitched as James began sucking a bruise on his neck, "waiting for the right time." He ran his fingers through short blond hair until blue eyes met his gaze. "I love you, James."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Then I guess you're stuck with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't do too much at once with this chapter...
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments. More to come soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how many kudos this has gotten already! You guys are amazing.
> 
> I hope I didn't jump into things with James and Q too quickly. In retrospect I think maybe I should've gone with more of a slow build, but then that's really not my intended focus for this story. Established relationship better serves my purposes.
> 
> I'm pleased that London Spy is finally airing in the US (so we can all cry together) and seems to be doing well! I don't think this story so far contains any spoilers post episode one if anyone's coming in here new to the party. Proceed with caution though. I sort of binge watched the series, so I'm not great at distinguishing what happened in what episode!
> 
> This chapter I ended up splitting in two parts (otherwise it was going to take too long to post and I'm impatient.) I'm optimistic I'll have the next chapter up sooner now that I've worked out all the holes in my plot line. Sorry if this is a little short (it sort of is by my personal standards. -_-) Enjoy!

Q awoke slowly to sunlight streaming in through the windows and a warm body pressed against his back. The subtle heat felt pleasant against his bare skin. As he blinked into wakefulness, the arm around his waist shifted and he felt breath on the back of his neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin there. He stretched like a cat, flexing his toes, and rolled onto his back, blinking up into icy blue eyes.

"Morning," James purred, gazing down at him appreciatively from his perch propped on an elbow.

"What time is it?" Q yawned.

"About 9:30."

"Shit. I'm surprised the cats haven't mutinied by now," he answered, seemingly in no hurry to dislodge the arm draped across his waist.

"I already fed them," said James. "Figured you felt like having a lie in."

Q blinked up at him in surprise, the world slightly out of focus without his glasses. "Really?"

James hummed in affirmation.

"Maybe I will keep you around," he answered wryly.

"As if that's the only reason you keep me around," he growled, squeezing his side and eliciting a rather undignified squeak from the younger man which he muffled with his mouth.

"Bastard," Q laughed between kisses. He paused, pulling back as he suddenly remembered, "Danny?"

"Still sleeping," answered James, trailing kisses along his jaw and down the side of his throat. "You know, you never told me you had a brother. _Ethan_."

"That," he answered breathlessly, "is above your security clearance."

He chuckled against the crook of his neck. "That's hardly fair. You know all about my family. Or lack thereof."

"I was talking about my name," he answered. "I've never told anyone about Danny. M doesn't even know."

James pulled back at the admission, propping himself up on his elbows. Q noted the crease between the brows, as if the older man could feel the thrum of tension running through the body beneath him.

"I didn't want him at risk for his connection to me," said Q in answer to the silent question. "I'm worried about him. I think there's something more he's not telling me. I think he may be in real trouble."

James frowned. "What sort of trouble?"

"I don't know," he answered, worrying his lower lip. He lifted his gaze to meet those blue eyes that were studying him so intently. He sighed. "Maybe it's best if I fill you in."

Q recounted the events of the previous evening, including as much detail of Danny's story as he could. By the time he finished, they were both sitting up in bed and something of 007 had taken over James' countenance. He could practically see his mind working through all the details, breaking things down piece by piece to be analyzed and stored for later. Seeing how seriously the double-o seemed to be taking this new information did little to settle his nerves.

"And whoever it was left the keys at the warehouse where Danny works, hidden in a box where only he would find them." James was frowning. "It's all rather sophisticated, don't you think?"

Q rubbed his face behind his glasses- having finally retrieved them from the nightstand- and raked his fingers through his hair. "Somehow I was hoping you wouldn't come to the same conclusion. I'd hoped you'd say I was being dramatic."

"And when are you ever dramatic?" said James. "No, this was a professional job. Someone's targeting him. The only question is who." He rose from the bed, padding across the floor in just his pants to retrieve a pair of jeans.

Q might've admired the view if he didn't suddenly feel so ill.

"I'd better report to M. Get the debriefing over with," said James, pulling a shirt over his head. "See what you can dig up on Alex Turner. Find an address and send me the details. I'll scope the place out."

Q stared at him. "James, you don't have to-"

"What, you didn't think I'd realize you planned on investigating?" He shook his head, bending to do up the laces on his boots. "You're good, Q, but you can't honestly believe I'd leave you to sort this out on your own."

Q did a rather spectacular impression of a fish before he gave up and closed his mouth. He had nothing to say to that.

James smirked in satisfaction as he shrugged on his jacket. "See if you can keep him in the house- at least until we figure out what we're dealing with. He'll be safe here."

Q stared at him as he stepped towards him, feeling something tighten in his chest. "Thank you, James."

He smiled, reaching down to take his face in his hands. He leaned in and pressed their lips together, drawing out the kiss. "I told you you're stuck with me."

He grinned, nodding toward the nightstand. "Your keys are in the drawer."

* * *

Q lifted his fingers from the keyboard for what felt like the first time in hours and rubbed his eyes tiredly behind his glasses. On his laptop screen there were a dozen windows open- search engines, news sources, police reports, and a few government data bases that he may or may not have the security clearance to access- including files from the archives of MI-6's servers. Alexander Turner appeared to be quite too common a name to yield any noteworthy results.

He had taken the liberty of perusing the police reports from the past 24 hours, looking for anything related to a homicide, and found one report that seemed to fall in line with Danny's story. After texting Bond the address, he dug up as much as he could about the building and its occupants. Only there was nothing to be found. As in, no records appeared to exist on any server Q could access or hack his way into.

He heaved a frustrated sigh and stretched his limbs, working out a kink in his neck. There was the slightest dip in the couch cushions beside him and before he could react a small grey furry body had climbed into his lap and onto the keyboard, somehow managing to step on the right combination of keys to take him out to his lock screen.

"Turing," he scolded half-heartedly, "what have I told you about climbing on my laptop when I'm working?"

Emerald eyes simply blinked up at him as the feline menace stretched out across the keyboard in defiance.

He sighed. "Is this your way of telling me it's time for a break?" he mused, scratching between his ears.

Turing purred.

"Not like I was making much progress anyway," he muttered bitterly.

"You working on your day off?"

Q nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him, suddenly grateful that there was nothing incriminating on his computer screen. He hadn't heard Danny approach. "Just a little project I'm working on," he said, regaining his composure. He smiled at the younger man over his shoulder. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Danny answered, returning a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I had some company."

Pascal leapt onto the back of the couch perched between them, purring away as Danny gave him a scratch.

"I wondered where he'd got off to," Q mused. "You hungry? It's-" he blinked in surprise at the clock on his phone, "shit- nearly one o'clock."

"Not really," he said absently, stroking Pascal's fur. "Did James have to work today?"

Q nodded, grateful for the easy out on that subject. "Yes, he- um- had some reports to finish that he waited 'til the last minute to do."

"Oh," is all he said. He shifted his weight. "Um, think I could use your shower?"

"Of course," answered Q. He carefully liberated his laptop from Turing's clutches- with some mild protest from the feline in question- and set it on the table, folding it closed before rising to his feet. Turing scampered off to find a new perch. "I'll find you some things to change into."

* * *

About an hour later, Danny sat beside Q on the couch in one of his old t-shirts, a navy pullover, and his jeans from yesterday. He sat with his chin resting on his knees drawn up to his chest, staring blankly at the television screen as Luke Skywalker tried and failed to raise his X-Wing fighter out of the swamp. Q had managed to coax a bit of toast into him, but that was about it. He couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes in spite of how late he'd slept.

He spared a glance at his laptop still on the coffee table in front of him. His fingers itched to return to the keys, but he knew there was no way he could immerse himself in research with Danny so close. He didn't want him to know he was digging into this, at least until he had something solid, and even then…

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt Danny's eyes on him, and he turned to meet his gaze. The younger man had a deep furrow in his brow and was eyeing him warily. Q frowned. "Danny, are you-?"

"I want to tell you something," he said, cutting off the question.

Q studied his face for a moment, wishing not for the first time that he was as good at reading people as his brother was. He reached for the remote, powered off the television, and turned in his seat on the couch so that he was facing him completely. He met his gaze steadily. "Alright."

Danny drew his knees in tighter against his chest and began picking at a non-existent loose thread in the leg of his jeans, suddenly determined to look anywhere but at Q. A heavy silence stretched between them before he finally drew a breath, seemingly having to force his next words from his throat. "Last night," he began, "I took something from the crime scene."

Q felt his heart stutter in his chest, but he forced his expression to remain neutral- especially when Danny finally met his eye and he could see just how much effort it had taken him to divulge this information. "What did you take?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

"I'm not quite sure," he answered. "Before Alex… disappeared, we'd talked about taking a trip together. Just getting away for a while- a holiday. I was so happy he was so keen on the idea," he smiled sadly at the memory. "We settled on a date. And then I remember him saying, 'I have to buy a battery for my laptop.' It was such a random thought, I didn't think much on it at the time. Then, last night, I found his laptop lying on the bed in the room where-" he cut himself off, closing his eyes for a moment. He steadied himself. "I opened the back of it, and in place of the battery I found this."

Q watched silently as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a small metal object, cylindrical in shape. He gazed at the item held in Danny's open palm, noticing the numbers printed sequentially in sections of the metal- a coded lock.

"I think he meant for me to find it," said Danny. "But I have no idea how to open it- or why he'd think I could." He searched Q's face with his hand still outstretched, his gaze tentative but hopeful. "I thought- maybe you could help me. You always were the smart one with this sort of thing."

Q offered a small smile. "Don't sell yourself short," he said. "Besides, if Alex meant for you to find it, I'm sure there's something you know- something he told you- that will be the key to cracking the code."

Danny shook his head. "I can't think of anything. I've been thinking about it all night. Can you-" he swallowed hard, "will you help me?"

His expression softened. "Of course."

Danny visibly sagged in relief as Q accepted the tiny burden, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Q turned the object over in one hand, pushing his glasses further up his nose with the other as he inspected it more closely. He turned each rotating segment around in his fingers, feeling for any subtle differences, and weighed the object in his hand. He took in every detail, asking himself if he had designed such an object of this size and weight, what would its purpose be?

"It comes apart, that's certain," said Q. "The locking mechanism is designed to conceal something within. But what object this size would be worth guarding so heavily? The first thing that comes to my mind is data; a data stick. I'm willing to bet one containing very important or sensitive files."

Danny nodded, accepting his train of thought. "But how do we open it?"

Q's next thought was interrupted by a sudden banging on the front door and they each gave a start, Q scrambling to keep hold of the metal cylinder before stuffing it into his pocket. "Christ," he muttered. He rose from his seat and steadied himself, holding out a hand to Danny. "Wait here."

He strode over to the door, willing his heart rate to slow down as another round of banging began that sounded like- someone knocking with their boot? He looked through the glass and released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his moment of panic shifting to annoyance. He unlocked the door and pulled it open wide, frowning at the figure on his front step. "You have a key, and now you knock?"

"My hands were full," James defended, holding out the bags like a peace offering. "I figured you two hadn't really eaten. God knows there's nothing edible in your kitchen. I brought take away."

Q could think of no retort, so he stepped aside to let him through and closed the door behind him, putting forth a great deal of effort to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Afternoon, Danny," James greeted with a charming grin as he passed through to the kitchen.

"Hi James," Danny answered with a short wave from the couch.

Q followed him into the kitchen, moving in close on the pretense of helping him unload the bags. "Did you find anything?" he asked, just loud enough for him to hear.

"We'll talk later," he answered just as quietly. He straightened, flashing a smile over his shoulder. "Danny, do you like Thai?"

* * *

"The place was heavily guarded," James began behind the closed door of the bedroom later that night. "Two armed men flanking the entrance, three more prowling around in the back. For a simple homicide investigation it seemed a bit excessive. I couldn't get close enough to confirm anything- not without playing my hand- but going by the equipment going in and out, I'm willing to bet this was a cleanup job. And quite a professional one at that."

Q frowned where he stood in a faded t-shirt and sleep pants, arms folded tightly across his chest. "And you suspect the police are involved?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?"

 _No,_ he thought, _it wouldn't._ The Silva debacle was something he wouldn't soon forget. His first true test as Quartermaster and he'd let him right into their systems. It had nearly cost them everything. He was _still_ dealing with the fallout. He remembered just how much inside help Silva had had from local police in orchestrating his escape. Some men could be bought, he knew, no matter what position they held.

"Anything on Alex Turner?" asked Bond, bringing him back to the present.

Q shook his head. "Nothing of note. Either it's far too common a name to narrow the field or I've missed something." He flopped onto the edge of the bed and raked his hands through his hair. "And then there's his flat. I couldn't find a damn thing on the place. No records of the owner or its occupants. It's like it doesn't exist."

"Or the records were all wiped out," said Bond, pulling his shirt over his head. "If you couldn't find anything, that's the only explanation."

"So what now?" asked Q, exasperated.

"We keep watching. See what comes to the surface. We don't have enough intel to act on just yet- not without blowing this wide open anyway."

Q tracked his movements as he shucked his jeans and stepped around to the other side of the bed. "Since when are you the type to play it safe?" he mused, giving him a pointed look.

James met his gaze evenly. "When it concerns people I care about," he said.

The fierce intensity in those icy blue eyes gave the younger man pause. James Bond wore many masks, he well knew. It was part of the job. But every once in a while something of the man beneath shone through- a hairline crack in the façade. Q always felt rather privileged to witness it.

"Keep tabs on Danny for now," said James, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Do what you can to keep him here."

He sighed. "Easier said than done."

"You'll find a way," said James, climbing into bed. "You always do."

"Well, I'd better come up with something before I head into Q-branch tomorrow," he answered, removing his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes wearily before finally crawling under the covers and curling on his side.

"Try not to think on it anymore tonight," said James, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. He pressed a kiss behind his ear. "Get some sleep."

Q breathed a sigh and willed himself to relax, melting into the circle of his arms. James was right, there was no use in fretting any more tonight. Not when he was far too tired to work anything out. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on clearing the endless stream of thoughts in his head. His problems would still be waiting for him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that one was a little heavy on the 00Q fluff, I have to admit. I am deep in 00Q hell and last night's Spectre rewatch (I finally got the digital copy, yay!) only served to fan the flames.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! I thrive on comments. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter may contain some slight spoilers from an episode that hasn't aired in the States yet. (Although it may only seem glaringly obvious to me because I wrote it, lol.)
> 
> Thanks again for all the love this is getting! I'm not used to getting much attention. I love your comments and try to reply when I can. :)
> 
> Apologies if this one is a little short, but I hope you like it!

Danny was restless. After more than 36 hours of just sitting around, he found he could no longer keep still.

He had awoken to an empty house and a note left beside his phone on the nightstand- Ethan letting him know that he and James had gone to work and to help himself to anything in the fridge. He’d left each of their numbers on the bottom of the note as well with instructions to text if he needed anything. It was a sweet gesture, he’d thought, and enough to bring the first genuine smile to his face in several days.

Danny had been content to lounge around the house for the first few hours. He had the cats and Ethan’s film collection to keep him occupied, but after a while he began to feel anxious. Closed in. He needed to get out. Just for a while at least.

Before he left, he realized he wouldn’t have a way back in after he locked up behind him. At least not until Ethan or James returned. He sent his brother a quick text to let him know he’d be out.

 _Do you want to wait until I’m off?_ came Ethan’s reply. _I can be free this evening. We can stop by your flat and get some of your things. - Q_

_Its ok. Dont want to hld u up. C u later._

_Be careful. - Q_

The response caught him off guard. But then he wasn’t used to anyone really worrying after him. He allowed a small smile and pocketed his phone. He didn’t ask what “Q” meant.

The sun was beginning to set when he found himself at Scottie’s door, the older man greeting him with that half smile that never seemed to reach his eyes as he ushered him inside.

"How are you holding up?" asked Scottie over tea.

"I'm fine," said Danny, both hands curled around his mug as he sat on the couch. "Just- um- thought I'd drop by, you know. While I was out."

Scottie gave a slow nod, eyeing the younger man critically from the adjacent armchair. "Just… out?"

"Walking," he said. "I've just been walking. I felt like it."

"Danny-"

“I haven't been home,” he finally admitted. “I just… couldn’t face it. I still have some of his things.”

“Where have you been staying?” Scottie asked.

He took a long drink of his tea, not caring that he was obviously stalling in his response. “With Ethan,” he said not meeting his eye, “and his partner.”

Scottie stared at him, slowly raising his eyebrows. “Your half-brother?” he said incredulously.

Danny frowned. “Don’t say it like that-”

"Well, it's a statement of fact isn't it? The only thing you two have in common is one parent," he said. "And anyway, you haven't spoken to him in years. What brought this on?"

"Ethan has been very kind to me," he answered evenly. "He cares about me. He's been looking after me. We've had a nice time the past couple days."

Scottie shook his head. “He never had time for you before," he scoffed. "He's never cared about you. He cares more about computers than he ever cared about _you_."

Danny swallowed hard, shaking his head. “That’s not true-”

“Or are you forgetting the time he dumped you on my doorstep after you nearly overdosed on god knows what?" he cut in. "Didn’t even come round all that time you were in hospital. He disappeared and then left _me_ to pick up the pieces.”

“Enough, Scottie- alright?” he shot back, nearly sending his mug crashing to the floor as he slammed it on the table. He raked both hands through his hair, drawing a shaky breath. “Fucking, hell. I was _nineteen_. Ethan was- what- twenty-five? Twenty-six? He didn’t know what else to do. You were the best option he could think of. It wasn’t his job to step in for dad.”

“And it was mine?” Scottie answered placidly.

Danny stared at him. “No. No, of course not. Why-?” He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze, furiously blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “What do you want from me, Scottie?" he asked. "What do I owe you?” he leaned forward in his seat. _“What do you want?”_

The older man was silent, gazing back at him evenly.

He sighed. “Look. Ethan is the only family I have left. And I have done more than my fair share to push him away. I don’t want it to be like that anymore.” He leaned across the space, taking the older man’s hand between his own. “Scottie, you are my dearest friend," he said gently. "But can’t you understand that I need him too?”

Scottie was silent.

Danny released his hand and rose to his feet, reaching for his jacket draped over the arm of the couch. He shrugged it on over his shoulders and headed for the door.

“Do you trust him?”

Scottie's voice made him pause, his hand rested on the doorknob. He turned to face him.

“Or this partner of his I assume you just met?” Those old blue eyes met his evenly from where the man now stood with his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Yes,” was Danny’s reply.

Scottie gave an expectant nod, smiling sadly. “Do you even know what he does for a living? A computer genius like Ethan Holt; I should be surprised if he hasn’t made a name for himself by now.”

“What the hell does it matter?” Danny answered.

Scottie gave him a knowing look, that sad smile lingering. “Just be careful,” he said. “That’s all I ask.”

* * *

Q sat in his office with the door closed, the surrounding glass turned opaque to shut out any distractions as well as give him a sense of privacy. Q-branch was relatively quiet. With no double-o’s needing guidance this evening, he'd allowed most of the branch to empty out around five o’clock. It gave him a chance to tackle a few projects uninterrupted and, besides, he never liked to deprive his minions of a free evening when circumstances allowed.

Lines of code filled the screen in front of him as he typed commands; his latest upgrades to MI6’s firewalls. A few more clicks on the keyboard, a final check of the finished code, and he was done. He reached up with both hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly behind his glasses. Work saved, he turned his gaze- not for the first time- to the screen to his left; an intricate map of London with one green dot in the center of the display.

It had taken Q all of five minutes to implant Danny’s phone with a simple tracker that morning, one which could also convert it into a listening device. The later function, he’d sworn to himself, would only be used for emergencies. It felt wrong invading his brother’s privacy like this, but it was the best solution he could think of on such short notice. He needed a way to keep track of Danny. It was the only way he knew how to keep him safe.

Hazel eyes tracked the little green dot as it began to move again, this time- he presumed- in the direction of Danny’s apartment. He watched its slow progress along the road with a frown, wishing he’d just take a cab instead of walking.

Q was startled from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door. He quickly minimized the tracking window, pulling up the schematic for the new DB-10 he was working on in its place.

“Come in,” he called, adopting the air of calm and collected he put forth while commanding Q-branch.

The door cracked open to reveal a young woman dressed in black slacks and a crisp white blouse, her long black hair pulled back off her face but allowed to hang loose around her shoulders. She flashed him a knowing smile, holding a stack of paperwork against her chest.

“Working late again, sir?”

“Rajani,” he greeted warmly. “I could say the same for you.”

“Always, sir,” she smiled, stepping into his office.

Q was quite fond of Rajani. She was a brilliant young mind and underneath her seemingly soft exterior she was forged of steel. She had a quick wit and a sharp tongue; instantly putting anyone who underestimated her in their place. Even the double-o’s, who'd instantly dubbed her “R” when she was appointed Q’s second in command, didn’t question her decisions when she ran comms. She always got results and was sought out nearly as much as Q was when things went to shit.

“I was going to leave these on your desk until morning,” said R, approaching with her stack of papers, “then I saw that your light was still on.”

Q frowned. “Are those the reports for the budget meeting?”

“Ready for your approval,” she answered. “But before you start sulking I should tell you that I brought up a few schematics from R&D for you to take a look at as well. They've come up with a few more modifications for the DB-10 I think you might like.”

“I don’t sulk,” he answered, the corners of his mouth twitching.

R grinned. “Don’t stay too late, sir,” she said, turning on her heel. “The paperwork will still be here in the morning.”

Q shook his head, smiling fondly as she left, the door falling closed behind her. He turned back to his computer, returning the tracking program to the screen. The green dot was still making slow but steady progress. He heaved a sigh, reaching for his phone.

_Checking in. Still at work for a bit. Doing ok? - Q_

_Alright,_ Danny replied. _Getting sum stuff frm my flat_

_Ok. Pick you up when you’re done? - Q_

_I dont mind walking_

_It’s no trouble. I’m almost done here. Let me know, ok? - Q_

_Ok_

Q set down his phone with a frown, wishing- not for the first time- that his brother wasn’t so stubborn. Then again it did seem to run in the family. He pulled the stack of paperwork closer; keeping the tracking program expanded on the screen, and began sifting through the documents. He sighed. Might as well look it over while he had some time to kill.

* * *

Danny reached the large brick building that housed his flat around seven, suddenly feeling quite tired and eager to get it all over with. He let himself into the building and shuffled up the stairs, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket.

The hall leading to Danny's door was unusually quiet as he approached. He took his time fishing out his keys, lingering at the door before he finally turned the lock and pushed it open. The place was dark, the only source of light being that of the street lamps pouring in through the windows.

"Pavel?" he called, pocketing his keys. "Sara?"

Silence.

He frowned. He'd thought that at least one of his flat mates would be home, but then maybe it was better this way. He didn't really feel like talking.

Danny slowly picked his way through the flat, not bothering with the lights until he made it to his room. He flicked the switch, revealing the disheveled mess exactly as he'd left it; clothes strewn about practically everywhere but in the closet and drawers where they belonged. He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling a nervous figure stood in this exact spot, blue eyes sparkling at him in the dim light.

 _It's usually tidier than this,_ he'd said before quickly retracting. _It's never tidier than this._

Danny drew a breath and let it out slowly, tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and set his jaw. He dove into the bottom of his closet, retrieved his rucksack, and tossed it on the bed. No. He wouldn't stay here.

He packed quickly, tossing clothes and a few other basic essentials into his rucksack with little care. He came across one of Alex's dress shirts- one of the few articles hung neatly in his closet as opposed to the way most of his things dangled haphazardly from the hangers. He lingered for a moment, running his fingers over the fabric reverently, and brought it to his face. He could still smell a hint of his cologne. Hesitating for a moment, he carefully removed the shirt from the hanger and folded it neatly, placing the article on top of the rest of the things in his rucksack. He pulled it closed.

With one last sweep of the room, Danny shouldered his bag and stepped into the hall, flicking the light off as he went. He paused as he reached the living room, detecting a sort of rumbling below his feet. Heavy footfalls on the stairs.

Suddenly the front door was forced open with a _BANG_. Danny stared with wide eyes as heavily armed police officers poured into his flat, their commanding shouts unintelligible above the din. He stood frozen.

Next he was aware of about a dozen hands on him. His bag was ripped from his shoulder as they forced him to the ground, wrenching both arms behind him. He felt a knee in his back.

The bite of metal handcuffs and he was hauled roughly to his feet, suddenly feeling quite unsteady under his own weight. Not that it mattered as he was half dragged into the hall and down the stairs with an officer on each arm.

They led him from the building and shoved him into the back of a police car. As the door slammed shut beside him, plunging him into a sudden deafening silence, he couldn't shake the distinctive feeling of the world caving in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left you on a cliffhanger!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!! >:) But, hey, we're finally getting to the good stuff. I'm excited for you all to see where this goes as I don't think anyone has guessed yet. Feel free to leave your theories in the comments!
> 
> In other news, all this snow has been GREAT for my productivity. Especially when my work closes! ;) Hopefully I can keep the momentum going. I'm going to start penning the next chapter tonight while my mind is already blasting through scenes.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. The chapter I've been waiting to unveil since I started this story. Enjoy!
> 
> (If you're new to London Spy, I'm pretty sure this chapter is safe from spoilers- at least beyond what has already aired in the US- but I'm not 100% sure. Proceed with caution!)

Numb.

As Danny was manhandled out of the car and through the station, he felt completely numb; as if he was walking through a dream. The thought sparked a ray of hope. Was this a dream? Perhaps he was going to wake up in a moment; awaken to find Alex lying beside him, curious blue eyes studying him contentedly in the glow of morning light.

Wake up.

If he could just wake up.

He was led through halls and from room to room fast enough to make him feel dizzy. And all the time the questions never ceased.

_When did you last see Alistair Turner? What were you doing in the apartment that night? How did you get in? Were you aware of what was going on in the attic?_

Alistair? No, _Alex_ , he tried to tell them. They only stared.

_You claim to have been in a serious relationship with this man, yet you didn't even know his name?_

They took his picture, his fingerprints, they swabbed his cheek. DNA testing, they said, to compare to what they found at the crime scene. He made no protest, no fuss. He was strangely calm. Maybe he'd finally cracked.

A man in a lab coat took a seat across from him. He wore latex gloves and held a kit with a syringe. They needed a blood sample, he said. He gave the barest hint of a nod. What difference did it make? They'd already taken everything else.

The door to Danny's left swung open, revealing a man in a sharp grey suit scanning the room with glacial blue eyes. Danny blinked in surprise at the familiar smirk.

"Sorry to interrupt," said James, striding in as if he owned the place. "007. Mr. Holt is coming with me."

* * *

Q's eyes ached as he leafed through the stack of documents on his desk. He realized belatedly that he was far too tired to comprehend anything he read in the budget reports tonight and quickly decided to have a look through the new plans for the DB-10 instead. The modifications looked quite promising.

He glanced up at the tracking program on the monitor- as he had like clockwork every two minutes for the past hour or so- nearly glancing away almost as quickly. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses to bring things into focus. The green dot on the screen was making rapid progress along the street; far too rapid to be walking.

Q reached for his phone, skimming through his contacts until he found Danny's number. He held the phone to his ear. It rang five times and went to voicemail. He tried again. Same result. He dropped the phone on the desk and bent over the keyboard, windows popping up as he typed commands at a rapid clip. The speakers on his computer came to life, filling Q's office with a familiar sort of white noise. He frowned. Definitely the sound of a car travelling along the road. He increased the volume as a sudden crackling noise joined the steady hum. Distorted voices he couldn't quite make out. It almost reminded him of… a police radio?

Q's fingers flew over the keys, pulling up various programs of his own design. He soon gained access to the list of warrants issued to the whole of London's police force within the past twenty four hours. Heart beating rapidly, he reached for his phone.

A voice answered on the second ring. _"Q?"_

"Bond. We have a problem," he began quickly. "I think Danny's been taken by the police."

A brief pause. _"You think they're looking to pin him for Alex Turner?"_

"That's the thing. There's no record of that name and no warrant issued for Danny. In fact," he held the phone between his ear and shoulder, typing a few more commands on the keyboard, "I can't even find anything on _Danny_. He has a record. A couple minor offences that should still be on file, but there's nothing. It's all disappeared."

_"He's been erased, you mean."_

Q straightened, looking to the tracker on the screen. "I'm still tracking him. I have a location. Sending you the details. Bond," he clenched his jaw, his voice taking on the commanding tone of MI6's Quartermaster, "get him out of there."

* * *

James strode into the room, reminding Danny distinctly of a large predator. _Double-o?_ His mind was racing. He fought to keep his expression neutral even as the imposing figure drew closer, but that icy gaze passed over him completely.

"What's this?" inquired James innocently, indicating the kit on the table.

The man in the lab coat stiffened under his steely gaze. "We're taking a blood sample," he said, failing to hide the slight quaver in his voice. "Standard procedure."

The answering smirk was almost predatory. "No it isn't." James leaned across the table, his voice barely above a whisper as he trapped the man with his gaze. "Never lie to a person who tells lies for a living."

The man's expression quite resembled that of a rabbit caught in a snare.

He straightened in one smooth motion, adjusting his jacket and cuffs.

A heavy hand dropped onto Danny's shoulder.

"Mr. Holt, with me please," said James without looking at him.

Danny rose slowly from his seat, jaw clenched tightly. The grip that transferred to his arm as he stood was firm but gentle.

James nodded to the room, flashing a winning smile as he led Danny to the door. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Danny held his tongue the whole way out of the building; while they collected his few personal items from the clerk and all the way out into the parking lot.

James ushered him into the back of a sleek black Jaguar and climbed into the driver's seat.

As soon as the doors closed, Danny broke his silence.

"YOU'RE WITH MI-FUCKING-SIX?"

James pulled out of the lot, completely unfazed by the outburst. "That's certainly one way to put it," he answered with a barely concealed smirk. "Q," he seemed to speak to the air, "target secure. We're headed to you now."

"Where're we going?"

James ignored him. "A bit stroppy," he said to the air, "but no worse for wear as far as I can tell. ETA five minutes."

"Where are you taking me?" Danny demanded.

"To your brother," he answered simply.

"Does he know you're with MI6?"

"Yes."

He narrowed his eyes. Q. Whoever James had been talking to he'd addressed as Q; just as he'd addressed Ethan that first night when he broke into the house. He remembered the signature on Ethan's texts. "You were talking to him just now," he said. "Why do you call him Q?"

Icy blue eyes connected with his in the rearview mirror. "He'll want to explain for himself."

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Danny chewed his nails and fidgeted in his seat, finding it impossible to stay still.

James had barely pulled to a stop before Danny flung the door open and all but leapt from the vehicle, ignoring the older man when he called after him.

Ethan stood on the pavement, clutching his messenger bag against his side. His glasses in the light of the street lamp cast eerie shadows across his face. He stiffened as Danny approached.

"Are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" he demanded, wrenching his arm away as James made a grab for him.

At a look from Ethan, James took a step back and folded his hands, standing at attention.

Danny pressed his advance. "Are you both with MI6? You are, aren't you?"

Ethan lifted both hands in a placating gesture, speaking in soft tones, "Danny-"

"Is that why Scottie never liked you? Because you're one of _them_? Is that why you never told me where you worked for the past seven fucking years?"

"I can explain," said Ethan, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Danny knocked it away. "You _lied_ to me!"

"I never lied, Danny!" Ethan stepped forward, gripping both of his arms tightly. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "I never lied to you."

"No," he answered bitterly, "you just didn't tell the truth."

"I was trying to protect you," said Ethan. "I never wanted you to get caught up in any of this." He tightened his hold, hazel eyes searching his face. "Please, Danny. Let me help you."

* * *

Danny sat huddled on the far side of the couch, his knees drawn up to his chest while Q studied him warily from the opposite end. He'd purposely left space between them, unsure if his presence was welcome despite being in his own house. The minutes stretched on in silence, neither having spoken a word since they walked in the door.

James had dropped them off, leaving with Danny's set of keys to return to his flat. Danny's bag was still there in the living room from when the police burst in. Q had asked him to retrieve it; partly as an excuse to get some time alone with his brother and partly because he wanted 007 to scope the place out. If he ever hoped to sort out this mess he was going to need as much information as he could get.

"What does 'Q' stand for?" asked Danny suddenly, drawing Q from his thoughts.

"Quartermaster," he answered, quietly pleased he had finally broken the silence. "There are few in MI6 who know me as anything else. My true identity is need-to-know; top level security clearance. To my colleagues, I'm simply called Q."

"So, what is it that you do?" asked Danny, hugging his knees tighter against his chest. He had yet to meet his eye.

"Lots of things," said Q. "As head of Q-branch I have many responsibilities. I equip the double-o agents with what they need for their missions. Most of the tech I design myself. I have a staff to delegate projects to and to help with gathering intel. When a double-o gets to a critical point in their mission, I run the comms. If they get into trouble, I devise and talk them through their exit strategy. I'm there any time they need surveillance. Hacking security systems is rather a specialty of mine. With the right agent, I can make it as if they were never even there."

"And what sort of places are you guiding these agents into?" asked Danny accusingly.

"Facilities housing criminal organizations," Q answered easily. "Terrorist cells, drug cartels, human trafficking rings. We're not the enemy, Danny."

"Then what happened to Alex?" he shot back angrily, eyes shining. "Who killed him? Who's trying to cover it up? Why?"

"I don't know, Danny," said Q, reaching out to rest a tentative hand on his shoulder. When he wasn't met with resistance he gave it a gentle squeeze. "But I won't rest until we know the truth. I promise."

Danny finally met his eye, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He studied the elder's face. Seemingly satisfied, he gave a nod, inching a little closer. When Q opened his arms that was all the push he needed. Danny stretched across the couch and laid his head on his brother's chest, closing his eyes as long fingers scratched lightly at his scalp.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," said the muffled voice against his chest. "You were trying to help me."

Q smiled. "That's quite alright," he breathed against his hair. "I'm sorry I've not been completely honest with you."

"I understand now," said Danny. "It must be hard. Having to lie to the people you care about to keep them from harm."

"Wasn't very effective, was it?" Q sighed.

"It's not your fault," he answered. "None of it was ever your fault. All the trouble I've ever found myself in I brought on myself. I did a lot of stupid things. It's not your job to try and rescue me all the time."

Q hugged him tighter. "I can try."

Danny laughed, shaking his head against his chest. "You're so bloody stubborn," he muttered, snuggling closer.

"Pot kettle," said Q, tapping him lightly on the head.

* * *

They stayed like that for a while, Danny seemingly having been lulled to sleep by the gentle petting of his hair. Two furry bodies had since joined them on the couch; Turing having wedged himself between the arm of the couch and Q's hip while Pascal seemed determined to be as close to Danny as possible, pressing himself against his chest from his position draped halfway onto Q's lap. It was all so warm and comfortable that Q was beginning to nod off himself, the stress of the day finally catching up with him. He was nearly asleep when the sound of the door opening jolted him to alertness once more.

He blinked up at Bond as he entered the room, Danny's rucksack making an interesting contrast hanging from the shoulder of his well tailored suit.

Danny stirred as Bond approached, disentangling himself from Q long enough to reach out and accept his bag. Pascal made a small noise of protest as the movement jostled him. "Thank you, James," said Danny, stroking Pascal's fur absently by way of apology. His steady purring resumed.

Bond nodded, flashing a small smile as he straightened. He stood feet shoulder width apart with his hands in his pockets. To the untrained eye the stance was idle.

Q frowned. "What is it?"

"You and I need to talk," he answered, gaze flitting briefly to Danny.

"No. No more secrets," Danny frowned, petting Pascal- who'd fully relocated to his lap- with both hands as though the soft fur would ground him. "Please. I need to know what's happening. I'm sick of being in the dark."

"It's alright," said Q, gaze fixed on Bond. He straightened in his seat, adopting the commanding tone of MI6's Quartermaster. "Report, 007."

He gave a curt nod. "The place was vacant when I arrived; no personnel. But somebody tossed the place."

He tossed Q his phone, who began thumbing through photos of the scene with a deepening frown. The flat was in shambles. Furniture overturned, drawers pulled out and left scattered on the floor. All of the mattresses had been ripped open.

Danny worried his lower lip, leaning into Q's shoulder so he could see the photos. He lifted his gaze to Bond. "Pavel and Sara?"

"It doesn't appear they've been home," he answered. "No sign of violence. Save to your things." He turned his gaze to Q. "What do you think they were looking for?"

Wordlessly, Q handed back his phone and reached down by his feet, rifling through his messenger bag. He straightened with his fist closed around a small metal object. He opened his palm, holding it aloft. "This."

Bond took the small device, turning it over in his hand.

"Danny took it from the crime scene," Q explained. "It was hidden in the battery compartment of Alex's laptop."

Bond quirked an eyebrow at Danny, mildly impressed. "Data drive?" he asked Q, returning the device.

"I'm inclined to think so," he answered. "I ran a few tests on it in Q-branch. It's tamper resistant. Any attempt to force it open will likely result in a total loss of the data." He turned to his brother. "Danny, I know it's a lot to ask, but we need to access these files if we want answers. There has to be something the two of you talked about. Something he told you."

Danny shook his head, leaning back against the sofa cushions with his eyes closed. "I don't know," he said miserably. "Eight months and it's like I didn't even know him." He turned to Q. "Do you know his name wasn't really Alex? It was Alistair. They told me at the police station."

Suddenly Q went rigid, staring at Danny with slowly widening eyes. "What did you say?"

Danny furrowed his brow, his gaze flicking from Bond to Q. "They said his name was Alistair."

Q suddenly felt as if he'd been doused in ice cold water. For a moment it was difficult to breathe. "Stupid," he said, mostly to himself. "I have been so fucking stupid."

He lunged for his laptop, causing Turing to leap from his lap with an angry yowl. At the disturbance, Pascal leapt down after him and both cats fled the room. Q's fingers were a blur over the keys as different windows popped up on his laptop at his command. The frantic typing abruptly ceased as he found the file he sought. At the top of the page a set of serious blue eyes peered back at him from too young a face. He turned the laptop towards Danny.

His breath caught.

"Is this him?" asked Q.

Danny nodded mutely, eyes glued to the screen.

AGENT: ALISTAIR TURNER

STATUS: DECEASED

"Project Alistair," said Q, suddenly weary. "It was top secret. Only a select few know of its existence and even I don't know all the details. I shared some correspondence with Alistair, but we never met face to face and our communication was always highly cryptic. I was under strict orders from M not to ask questions, just grant his requests. All that M would disclose to me was that this project was of the utmost importance, but extremely delicate. It was best if I didn't know the details until the project was past the research faze and ready for development. Whatever he was working on, M was convinced that it would revolutionize the way we gather intel and monitor agents in the field. My communication with Alistair went dark two weeks ago."

"That's when Alex disappeared," said Danny.

Q nodded. "That's precisely when Alex disappeared."

Danny couldn't take his eyes off the screen. He reached out a hand to the image, as though if he tried hard enough he might be able to reach the man captured within.

Q reached for his hand, depositing the small cylinder in his palm. "Danny," he said gently, "I know it's hard, but with Alistair gone, you are the only person in the world who can gain access to those files."

"'The only person in the world.'" Danny smiled sadly, still fixated on the image on the screen as he turned the object over in his hands. "You know, I asked him once if he believed in soul mates; if he thought it was possible there could be one person out there who was meant for you. He said it wasn't a nice idea. How could anyone possibly end up with the right person? Who's to say they'd even be in the same city? The odds make it impossible for there to be just one."

He began rotating each segment of the coded lock seemingly without thought. One by one he lined the numbers up to read "0" straight across until he reached the last segment. This he set to "1." There was a soft 'click.'

The room was still, three pairs of eyes fixed on the object in his hands. Mutely, Danny pulled the lock from the device, revealing the end of a flash drive- just as Q predicted. He didn't seem to notice the tears slipping silently down his cheeks.

"It would appear that he changed his mind," said Bond, his eyes meeting Q's just briefly.

Danny gave a nod, shocked to silence. He turned to Q, holding out the drive.

He hesitated. "Perhaps I should look it over first. I have no idea what we'll find."

Danny shook his head. "No," he said, wiping at his eyes. "Alex died for this. I want to know."

Q nodded. "Alright."

He shifted to the center of the couch with his laptop on his knees, making room for Bond to take a seat on his left. He began typing commands, enabling a few extra firewalls before accepting the drive from Danny and plugging it in.

The drive, of course, was encrypted, but Q made short work of the security protocols and soon had gained full access to the drive's content. He sifted through the data, eyes growing wider the more information he absorbed.

"This-" he stuttered, licking his lips, "this is- it's unprecedented. M was right. This could change everything."

"Explain, Q," prompted Bond with barely concealed amusement.

"Alex developed an algorithm that can identify SIM numbers in any given area by hacking into a cell tower," he began.

Danny frowned. "I don't understand. What would that do?"

"Mobile devices carry a small chip that connects them to a given network via the closest cell tower in range. Each card is identified by a series of randomly assigned numbers. What Alex has developed would allow us to lock onto the signal of any given device. From there we could gain access to the microphone, and potentially the camera. Basically, any device that carries a SIM- mobile phones, tablets, smart watches- could then be converted into a listening device and/or visual surveillance. The applications for this are endless. We could track targets, listen in on their conversations. It could even change the way we monitor agents in the field. Instead of scrambling to hack the few CCTV cameras in a given area, we could access any mobile device in range to better monitor and advise the agent. This could save lives."

"But in the wrong hands," said Bond, "it could do just the opposite. We're talking about limitless surveillance."

"Precisely," said Q. "That's why M didn't want anyone else to know. It's too much of a risk." He took a deep breath and closed his laptop, pocketing the drive. "We must alert M immediately. If someone's looking for the drive we may have a serious security breach on our hands."

"Ah, that reminds me," said Bond smoothly. "He called a while ago. It appears he's been made aware of our snooping. He requested we meet him as soon as possible."

Q stared at him, feeling all the color drain from his face. "AND YOU'RE JUST TELLING ME THIS NOW?" he bellowed.

Without awaiting a response, Q leapt from the couch, tucking his laptop away in his messenger bag and searching for his phone. He found it on the kitchen counter and realized he had left it on silent. He looked at the display. Twelve missed calls.

"Shit, shit, shit, buggering fuck!" He whirled on Bond. "007 if M doesn't string us both up you'll be lucky if I ever send you back into the field with anything more than a water pistol!"

"There's one other thing," said Bond, completely unfazed.

"And what is that?" Q answered irritably, scrambling to pull on his jacket.

"M has requested that we bring Danny in."

Q froze where he stood, hefting his messenger bag onto his shoulder. It was several moments before he found the ability to speak again. " _What_?"

* * *

The drive to headquarters was filled with tension, the silence almost eerie as they rode through the dark streets of London. Q sat in the back seat of Bond's Jag with Danny. The younger man had not spoken a word since they left the house. Q could tell he was trying to put on a brave face, but he feared he was reaching his breaking point. He felt a dull ache in his chest. Sweet Danny. How cruel life had been to him already. How much more would he be forced to bear? He noted how his hands trembled in his lap.

Wordlessly, Q reached over, untangling his hands and engulfing one between his own. His skin was icy to the touch. He rubbed a hand over the back of his in an attempt to generate heat, holding tightly with the other. Danny did not lift his head from its resting place against the window, but he gave his hand a returning squeeze.

Bond led the way down the darkened corridor to a door at the end, the building eerily quiet as its occupants had long since left for the day. He gave Q and Danny a brief nod before rapping twice on the door.

Q almost visibly sagged in relief when Moneypenny opened the door to usher them inside.

"Evening, Bond," she greeted cordially.

"Ms. Moneypenny," he answered with a charming smile.

"Q," she nodded next. Her gaze lighted on the third figure and she smiled warmly. "And you must be Danny," she said brightly, extending a hand. "My name is Eve."

"Hello," said Danny, tentatively accepting the offered hand.

Moneypenny tutted, enfolding her other hand over his. "Oh, you're frozen," she observed. "Well then, come along and we'll get you some tea." She took Danny by the arm and steered him toward the door, looking back over her shoulder to address the other too. She nodded toward M's door. "He's waiting for you."

Q met Danny's look of uncertainty with an encouraging nod. "It's alright," he said. "Moneypenny is my most trusted friend."

She scoffed. "Most trusted friend you never bothered to inform that you had a brother," she chided, patting Danny's arm affectionately. She narrowed her eyes at Q. "You and I will chat later." And she turned on her heel, leading Danny by the arm from the office.

"Come on," said Bond in Q's ear, reaching up to take him by the elbow. "Best not keep M waiting any longer."

* * *

"Sit. Both of you."

M stood behind his desk, his glare like daggers as they entered the room.

Q lowered himself into a chair in silence, hands folded tightly in his lap. A glance to his left revealed Bond taking the chair opposite, draping himself like a great lion; entirely unaffected by M's apparent fury. The bastard.

"I trust you both know why you're here," said M.

"Yes, sir," Q managed.

Bond simply nodded.

"Then I shall be brief," said M. "I do not particularly enjoy phone calls from Scotland Yard in which I am forced to explain why one of my agents chose to directly interfere with a murder investigation; particularly when said agent did in no way address the matter with me beforehand. The only reason I defended your actions - which I daresay will not happen again- is due to a name that was mentioned during this exchange and the fact that the individual you obtained bears a rather striking resemblance to our Quartermaster."

M's piercing gaze fell on Q and he suddenly wished he could melt into the floor. He swallowed hard.

M reached into a drawer in his desk, retrieving a file folder filled with papers that he opened with frighteningly controlled movements. He fixed Q with a withering gaze as he opened the file, breaking eye contact only as he began to read.

"Daniel Edward Holt. Age twenty-six. Prior offences; one count public intoxication, two counts possession of illicit substances. Brought in on suspicion of murder of one Alistair Turner." He slapped the folder onto the desk in front of them, letting it fall open on a photograph of Danny that must have been taken mere hours before.

M slowly lowered himself into his chair, his gaze fixed on Q. "Tell me Quartermaster- and I expect full disclosure; what connection does the brother I never knew you had have to Alistair?"

Q swallowed, taking a moment to find his voice. "They were partners, sir."

"How long have you known of their involvement?" demanded M.

"Truthfully, sir?" he glanced at his watch. "Approximately forty-seven minutes." He took a breath. "He gave Danny the name of Alex; I presume to conceal his true identity. I didn't make the connection until-" he cut himself short, realizing belatedly that M was yet unaware of the files in his possession.

M bored into him with his gaze. "Until what?"

Q hesitated only briefly; but then he always was a terrible liar. He retrieved the drive from the inner pocket of his jacket and held it out palm up for M to see. "Until Danny removed the lock on this."

M's sharp gaze flicked to the drive in his hand, realization dawning almost instantly as his eyes shifted back to Q. "Where did he get it?"

"It was hidden in the battery compartment of Alistair's laptop," he explained. "It appears that he… hinted this to Danny, intending him to find it if anything were to happen to him. Danny was the one to discover Alistair's body. He found the drive after he called police, before he left the scene. He had no idea what it was. It was chance, I suppose, that he brought it to me."

"And what is Danny's interest in these files?" said M.

Q was taken aback. He glanced at Bond- who had maintained a stony silence throughout this exchange- before returning his gaze to M. "He's just looking for answers," said Q, suddenly feeling defensive. "Danny lost the man he loved; the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Is it wrong for him to want to know why?"

For a moment M was silent, drumming his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. His gaze flitted from Q to Bond and he rose from his seat, crossing to a large file cabinet behind his desk.

"I believe it is time you were both brought up to speed," said M as he retrieved a file from the drawer. He turned and set it on the desk, standing with his fingertips rested on the surface. He turned to Q. "You are aware that Alistair went dark two weeks ago?"

Q nodded. "Yes, sir."

M remained standing, his hand still resting on the file. "Before he went dark, I received a call from Alistair stating that he had apprehended an enemy agent who had broken into his flat. No data was compromised; he hadn't had much time to search before Alistair caught him, but we realized that Alistair's identity and location _was_. I ordered him to find out who the agent was working for- then terminate him. He already had."

Bond was leaning forward in his seat now, a keen interest in that steely gaze. Q got the feeling that the older man was a step ahead of him as to where this was going.

"The agent was connected to a cyber terrorist organization operating in America," M continued. "Once we had identified the cell leader, Alistair was sent to track him down. This would serve two purposes; eliminate the terrorist threat and keep Alistair out of the country long enough to convince the rest of the world that he was dead. I presented him with an offer of promotion; pending the completion of his mission." He slid the folder across the desk, his gaze fixed on Q. "You are familiar with the requirements to gain double-o status?"

Beside him, Bond stiffened.

Q nodded mutely, his hands folded tightly in his lap. His gaze was fixed on the still closed file as if it was a deadly snake; poised to strike. _Double-o. Two kills._

"Alistair has completed his mission and is returning to London as we speak." M flipped the file open, pushing it a little closer.

Q felt as if all the air had been forced from his lungs as he gazed at the photograph pinned to the first page- the same photo he had showed Danny not an hour earlier. He skimmed the text below the header.

AGENT: ALEX TURNER

STATUS: ACTIVE

 _Alex._ Q lifted his gaze.

M stared back evenly. "Meet our new 009."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mic drop*
> 
> Okay, I'm not that cool...
> 
> Surprised? Did anybody call it?? I DID say this was a fix-it after all. And we've only just begun! Originally I had intended this to be pretty short, but while I'm not promising novel length I can safely say there is a good deal more to come. I have also realized that, with what I have planned, this story calls for a sequel. Spectre tie-in anyone? I'm guessing you might see where this is going. ;)
> 
> **SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED LONDON SPY: I made a VERY conscious decision to change what was on the drive/the nature of Alex's research. To be perfectly honest, I thought what Tom Rob Smith came up with was really stupid. Spy training 101- how to beat a lie detector (as one tumblr user pointed out though I can't find the post now). Anyone?? Honestly, the whole idea is pretty ridiculous. There are SO MANY VARIABLES that would make this not work. You can't come up with an algorithm to read a face. No one is symmetrical. Everyone is unique. Not to mention, telling whether or not someone is lying is more a matter of psychology in how it shows on a person's face. I thought I'd go with something that, while still impossible (trust me, I actually work in the technical field of the wireless industry) was still logically feasible.**
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for all the love this is getting! I can't say it enough. Please leave your thoughts! I live for your feedback. :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been writing like a maniac... Enjoy the early update! :D

It was a long time before Q found his voice again, his mind racing as his gaze fixed on the photograph. _Alive. Alex is alive._ How was he going to tell Danny?

"Now then," said M, gaining his attention once more, "that brings us to our present predicament." His stony gaze fell on Q and it was almost as if he could read his thoughts. "What to do about our Quartermaster's brother."

"Sir-"

"As you can imagine, I am hesitant to further involve a civilian in such a delicate situation," he pressed on as if Q hadn't spoken. "Especially one with a fairly questionable past."

Q bristled. "Sir, he was nineteen. He made the mistakes one might expect of a teenager left on his own with little guidance; much of which I blame on myself. But he got help and he got better. I can assure you that he is far removed from that past."

"Is that why his criminal record has vanished all but on paper?" said M, tapping a finger on the file on his desk.

"No, sir. I never touched those records," said Q.

"And why should I believe that?" M responded evenly.

"Because it wouldn't have helped him," Q countered, raising his voice slightly as he began to lose the battle against his flaring temper. "What good would it have done for me to erase what he did? No good can come of burying the past, otherwise we never learn from our mistakes. Sir," he added as an afterthought.

"Sir, we have reason to believe that Danny is being targeted," Bond interjected, giving Q a start. He'd nearly forgotten he was there. "Someone has made the connection between Danny and 009 and is looking to obtain the data he had in his possession. Clearly, whoever wiped the records was intent on making him disappear once they got what they were after."

M considered this, his gaze flicking back and forth between the double-o and his Quartermaster. He gave a nod. "Very well. Considering the events of the evening, I should be inclined to agree. That being said, I believe it is necessary to move him to a secure location."

"A safe house?" said Bond.

"Precisely," said M. "At least until we know who's targeting him and can further assess the threat."

"Understood, sir," said Bond, rising from his seat.

"One more thing," said M, giving him pause. His gaze fell on each of them in turn, coming to rest on Q. "Danny is not to be informed of 009's present status. He knows too much already. Given the present situation, I think it best that he remain distanced from the agent for his sake and 009's."

Q stared at him, his grip on the arms of his chair slowly turning his knuckles white. "You're asking me not to tell Danny that Alex is alive?"

"Yes, Quartermaster, that is precisely what I asked," M answered evenly. "I think it wise, for the sake of his personal safety, that he not be involved-"

"He's already involved!"

"Q-" Bond's heavy hand gripped his shoulder. "M's right. The closer he gets to Alex right now, the more danger he's in. If they get to Danny, they'll use him as leverage."

"But you're asking me to lie to him," said Q. He shook his head. "I can't. I _won't_." His gaze fell on M. "Not about this. He has a right to know."

M studied him long and hard. Finally he gave a nod. "As you wish, Quartermaster," he said. "Then I expect you are prepared to bear whatever consequences your decision may bring."

"I have only ever considered what is best for Danny," said Q. "In this case, I see far more harm in withholding this information than divulging it."

"Very well." His gaze shifted to Bond. "007, if you would be so kind as to bring him in."

* * *

Danny sat with a mug in his hands, letting the warmth seep into his fingers which no longer seemed capable of retaining heat. Eve had taken up residence in the chair beside him, for which he was silently grateful. It would've been rather intimidating sitting across from her behind that big desk. This way things seemed more casual, and the easy smile she wore further helped to put him at ease.

"So, you're younger than Q?" she asked conversationally, balancing her own mug with one hand atop her crossed knees.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, about seven years," he said, taking a sip from his mug.

She lifted her eyebrows. "Wow," she said. "You both look so young."

He allowed a small smile. "Everyone always says we look like we could be twins, now that I'm older."

"I can see why," said Eve, studying him intently. "There are subtle differences though. Enough to easily tell you apart. And I'm not talking about the glasses."

That startled a little laugh out of him. "I guess that's always been obvious. He's worn glasses for as long as I can remember."

She smiled, resting her temple against her closed fist, elbow propped on the back of her chair. "No, your features are…" she considered her words, "softer somehow. Whereas Q is all angles. You carry yourself quite differently as well; you're more relaxed. Q is…"

"Rigid?" he supplied.

She nodded solemnly. "He carries a lot of tension. But then I suppose that comes with the job. There's a lot on his shoulders."

"How long have you known him?" Danny asked.

"Since he moved up from Five about four years ago." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "When he was still _Ethan_."

Danny smiled.

"He was always so quiet," she went on. "Kept to himself mostly. A few were stupid enough to assume he'd be a pushover, our young new tech; the computer geek who barely lifted his head when someone approached his desk. They were thoroughly- and sometimes brutally- proven wrong." She grinned wickedly, leaning forward a little in her seat.

"Once, I was back in one of the break rooms getting coffee and this bloke- Martin or Marvin or whatever the hell his name was, he was a complete cock- tried to get hands-y with me. Before I could threaten to break both of his wrists, Q slips between us- on pretense of going for the kettle- and says, quite casually, 'Just because you find someone attractive doesn't give you the right to put your hands on them.' And the guy says, 'What are you going to do? Report me to HR?' So, Q finishes pouring his tea- takes his time- turns around, and says so innocently that you'd think he was talking about the weather, 'No. That would be boring. However, if you choose to continue this brand of harassment you so favor, I'd be happy so send a detailed letter to your wife listing all of your interdepartmental conquests; but not before I've emptied your personal accounts and donated every pound to the local women's shelter.' Then he just tottered off back to his desk with his tea and didn't say another word for the rest of the day. I invited him out for drinks after work that night and we've been best friends ever since."

Danny was laughing earnestly now at the image it took little effort to call to mind. "He would've too."

Eve grinned. "I don't doubt it," she said. "And neither did that bloke. He avoided Q like the plague and wouldn't so much as look me in the eye after that." She took a long drink from her tea, studying him- not intensely enough to be intimidating, but in a way that left him feeling exposed; like he was an open book she could easily thumb her way through.

"Seven years is quite an age gap," she said. "Was he protective of you when you were younger?"

Danny's gaze drifted to the mug in his hands. He gave a short nod. "When he could be, yeah," he said. "You see, Ethan- _Q_ ," he amended, "and I didn't grow up together. Not under the same roof at least."

"Really?" said Eve.

He shook his head. "He grew up with his mum's parents. She was pretty young when she had him. I think she just sort of shot through. And Dad was just an arse. He never made an effort to really be part of his life. I don't know if the decision was his or Ethan's grandparents', but Ethan stopped coming round when he was pretty young. He always made an effort to see me though," he smiled fondly. "He used to ride the tube by himself just so he could walk me home from school. He'd use his pocket money to buy us ice cream. Sometimes he'd take me places; the zoo or the cinema. He took me to see Star Wars when it was re-released."

Eve smiled. "He sounds like a wonderful big brother."

Danny nodded. "He's always looked out for me. Even when I fucked everything up. I left home when I was eighteen. He offered to let me live with him, but I guess I was too fucking proud or just stubborn enough that I wanted to figure things out on my own. Besides, Ethan had his work and I didn't hear from him as much as I used to. By the time I turned nineteen I was… getting into trouble. I put myself in too many bad situations and I don't like to think about all the times I could've ended up dead. Ethan found out. He'd always left me to make my own decisions because he didn't want me to see him as another person trying to tell me what to do. This time he didn't care. Even when I was completely out of my head and I told him I hated him, he took care of me. He probably saved my life."

Eve laid a hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure he loves you very much."

Danny nodded. "I love him too. I… try to be better about showing it now."

The door to M's office opened and James stepped out, that glacial gaze landing on Danny. He offered a small smile as he beckoned him forward. "He'll see you now."

Danny set his mug on a side table and rose slowly to his feet, Eve mirroring his movements. He was caught off guard as she wordlessly pulled him into a hug.

"It was nice meeting you, Danny," she said when she released him.

He smiled. "You too."

He turned to James, noting how his heart rate increased as he glanced past him to the door beyond. When he couldn't immediately bring himself to move forward, he felt a hand against the small of his back, gently urging him on. The hand stayed in place as James opened the door for him to face whatever lay ahead.

* * *

Q sat straight backed in his chair as the door opened and closed behind him, keeping a white knuckled grip on the arms of his chair. He kept his gaze fixed on M, even as his superior turned his attention to a point behind his left shoulder.

"You must be Danny," he greeted. "I'm M." He indicated the chair next to Q. "Please, have a seat."

Q rallied himself, relinquishing his grip on the chair to fold his hands neatly in his lap. He turned to offer what he hoped was a reassuring smile as Danny came into view, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He could see Bond in his periphery, standing by the door with his hands folded in front of him, his face an unreadable mask.

Danny looked wary as he slowly eased himself into the chair, eyes trained on M.

"I trust you have some idea as to why you're here?" asked M.

Danny's gaze shifted to Q.

He gave an encouraging nod. "It's alright."

Briefly, Danny hesitated. "Because of what I found in Alex's laptop?" he said.

M inclined his head. "Primarily, yes. It seems it is no secret that you came into the possession of some rather delicate information. There are those who would seek to obtain it from you. I believe, whoever it is, tried to apprehend you tonight."

Danny fidgeted with his hands in his lap. He gave a small nod, eyes downcast. "Are they the same people who killed Alex?" he asked, not lifting his gaze.

Q shifted uncomfortably in his chair, catching M's eye.

"That brings us to the other matter we're here to discuss," said M. "There is no delicate way to put this- in fact I will have it noted that I was against this conversation from the start- so I will get straight to the point. The project that Alex was working on was of a delicate nature and has been exposed. We wished to contain the threat as quickly and efficiently as possible, and so his death was staged in order to throw off the hostiles pursuing him and his work. At least for a time. Alex was sent to America to contain the threat; a mission which is now complete. He is aboard a flight to London as we speak."

Danny lifted his head, staring at M with slowly widening eyes. For a long moment, he remained silent until Q began to grow concerned that he was slipping into shock. "Alex," he finally said. "You called him Alex."

M gave a slight nod, the only hint of confusion being a slight crease in his brow. "Yes."

"Not Alistair."

"Alistair is his given name," said M. "One it seems he is less than fond of. He prefers Alex."

"Alex is alive?" Danny's voice was little more than a whisper. He fixed his gaze on Q. "Did you know?"

Q shook his head. "Not until about five minutes ago," he said, smiling sadly.

"And now that that's out of the way," said M, "I wish to discuss-"

"I want to see him," said Danny abruptly, turning his gaze to M. "Please. Sir."

"I'm afraid that will be difficult," said M, "if not impossible."

Q straightened. "Sir-"

"I have compromised enough, Quartermaster, in divulging as much as I have," he answered sharply. "Alex has just been promoted to double-o status and is in the middle of a delicate operation; as it seems this security threat still stands. When he returns to London, he will need to debrief and then I will decide if it is in his best interest- or Danny's- for him to be apprised of this latest development. Now I will be blunt. Given the fact that he did not so much as tell his partner that he was leaving the country before he disappeared, I am inclined to believe that he may no longer wish to remain involved for the safety of said partner."

"If Alex doesn't want to see me anymore he can tell me himself," Danny shot back, leaning forward in his seat, "face to face. I won't accept it any other way." He sat back in his seat, deflating somewhat. "I have to see him. Please, sir."

"I shall make no promises," M relented. "I leave that decision with 009 once this situation has been contained. Until then, you will remain in the charge of 007 for your own safety." He turned to Q. "Quartermaster, I assume you wish to remain with him as well?"

"Yes, sir," said Q.

"Very well," said M. "Delegate as much as you can to R and take what you need from Q-branch to operate remotely. We may need to rely on your skills to sort out this mess."

Q nodded. "Understood, sir."

"007," said M, rising from his seat. "If you would be so kind as to fetch Ms. Moneypenny so that we can discuss security."

"Sir," answered Bond with a curt nod, reaching for the door.

"Quartermaster, you and your brother may wait outside."

"Yes, sir."

Q led Danny by the elbow from M's office, sparing Moneypenny a small smile as they passed. He held onto Danny's arm even after the door closed behind them, feeling the slight tremor that was beginning to run through him. He tightened his hold.

"Danny?"

The tremor was rapidly becoming more pronounced, his breath beginning to catch.

Q led him to a chair against the wall, gripping both of his arms as he grew concerned that he may not be able to keep his feet much longer. "Sit down," he coaxed gently, guiding him into his seat. He knelt in front of him, resting both hands on his knees. "Take a breath."

Danny took a deep breath, only to release it in a strangled sob. He shook his head, trying- and failing- to hold back tears. "I can't," he choked out, " _I can't_."

Q rose from the floor and slid into the chair beside him, pulling Danny into his arms as the younger man's shoulders began to shake with sobs. "It's alright," he soothed, rubbing circles on his back. "It's going to be alright." He could only hope that his words would hold true.

* * *

The drive back was blessedly silent, Danny finding comfort in the gentle hum of the car's engine as they travelled along the road. Ever since they stepped out of M's office, he had somehow managed to maintain physical contact with Ethan, finding that the tactile reassurance of his presence seemed to ground him. He leaned heavily against his shoulder now, closing his eyes as long fingers threaded idly through his hair. He'd never felt so exhausted.

He had nearly drifted off when he felt the car come to a stop; the hum of the engine cease. Reluctantly, he lifted his head as Ethan shifted beside him. He felt adrift for a moment as his brother broke contact long enough to get out of the car, but soon his door was opened and Ethan had him by the arm; bringing him back down to Earth. He led him gently to the door.

Danny had caught snatches of discussion of a safe house, but James it seemed had convinced M that Q's house was the safest place he could be, and for that he was grateful. _Q._ He was still getting used to that.

As James ushered them both inside, a blur of white fur came barreling towards him. He relinquished his hold on his brother long enough to bend down and scoop Pascal into his arms, enjoying the feel of the tiny purring motor against his chest.

Ethan chuckled, lifting a hand to scratch between Pascal's ears, the other rested against Danny's back. "I think you're his new favorite," he mused.

Danny allowed a small smile, nosing against soft fur.

"Come on you two," coaxed James, ushering them further in. "Let's not linger in doorways."

Soon Danny was ready for bed, having gone through the motions unconsciously until he found himself sitting on the edge of what was becoming _his_ bed clad in his favorite pair of sleep shorts. He had just crawled under the covers, curling on his side as Ethan appeared in the doorway dressed in a faded t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

He padded barefoot across the floor, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and tugging the blankets just a little higher over Danny's shoulder. "Will you be alright tonight?" he asked.

Danny nodded.

He reached down, smoothing back his hair absently. "I'll be just down the hall," he said. "Wake me if you need anything. I don't mind and neither does James. He can go back to sleep easily enough. Promise?"

Again he nodded.

Ethan smiled, seemingly lost in thought for a moment; as if he were trying to decide what to say next. He smoothed back his hair once more, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Goodnight, Danny," he said, rising to his feet. And just as quickly he had slipped from the room, leaving Danny to fall into what he hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially intended to have a lot more happen in this chapter, but it would've been super long so I opted to update sooner instead. I hope there was enough to this to keep you all satisfied until the next update. I'm not going to speculate on when that will be (because I jinx it EVERY TIME I do) but there will be more action, I promise! I've just got some logistics to work out for what's coming next. (MWAHAHAHAHA!) >:)
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for all the love this is getting. This story is about to break my kudos record and it's not even done yet! I <3 you all.
> 
> Keep the comments coming! I love to chat. Plus, you never know how you might influence where this goes. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Apologies for the delay. I really hoped to get this out sooner but I encountered a... problem... in the writing that I had to work through. Logistics can be a pain in the ass.
> 
> PSA: I am not trained in self defense (the boxing workouts I've done don't count, I'm sure :P) so take this with a grain of salt.
> 
> Also, I seem to have had too much fluff in my system, so enjoy a bit more before the action starts!

"Widen your stance a bit. Good. Now, you've got to drive from your legs so put your right foot back a bit- that's it. Now- hard as you can." _Smack._ "Not bad. This time…"

Q stood in the kitchen stirring a ludicrous amount of sugar into his tea. It had been five days since this voluntary house arrest began with seemingly no end in sight, and while none of the occupants had cracked just yet, he could see the way their nerves were beginning to fray. While Q, personally, had enough to keep him occupied- being continuously in the loop with all the goings on in Q-branch- and Alex's mission- he'd been expressly forbidden from divulging any information to Danny. His brother didn't press him, for which he was grateful, but he could see the way the waiting ate away at him as more time passed. James, of course, being used to much more _eventful_ assignments was starting to get a bit… twitchy. Double-o's don't do well staying idle for long, which is why Q was surprisingly grateful for his latest distraction.

James finally found an outlet for his pent up energy, spontaneously having decided that Danny could use a few basic lessons in self defense. "After all," he'd teased Q's brother, "the next time you encounter a potential threat, I think it highly unlikely there'll be any frying pans on hand." Danny had thrown a pillow at his head, but ultimately agreed to humor the restless agent.

"Excellent." James shook out the open palm he'd been having Danny throw punches into. "You hit harder than your brother," he smirked, pretending as if he didn't see Q standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

Q leaned against the archway, better to observe the little sparring lesson from a distance. "Not rising to the bait, James," he said, sipping his tea.

Danny turned to look at his brother over his shoulder. "I don't believe you've ever thrown a punch in your life," he goaded.

"Don't you start as well," answered Q, quirking an eyebrow at him over the rim of his glasses.

Danny grinned.

"We never get far with sparring lessons," James went on, regaining Danny's attention. "He can never keep up for long."

Q scoffed. "Only because you cheat."

"I was merely trying to prepare you for any eventuality," he answered innocently. "You can't exactly expect a mercenary to fight fair, can you?"

"I'm quite sure no mercenary would ever employ any of _those_ methods to gain the upper hand," said Q.

James smirked.

"I'm not even going to ask," said Danny.

"Speaking of gaining the upper hand," said James, "that brings me to the next part of the lesson. How about assisting me with a little demonstration, Q?"

Q narrowed his eyes at him. "If you think I'm falling for that-"

"I just want to show your brother how to break away from an attacker," he said, striding over and snatching his mug from his hands, earning a death glare from the Quartermaster. He turned and set it on the coffee table. "Come on, Q."

"Fine," he answered tersely, moving to stand in the middle of the living room. He pushed back the sleeves of his cardigan, turning to James expectantly.

James strode toward him with a triumphant grin while Danny stepped off to one side, standing where he could watch the pair from a safe distance. James stopped directly in front of Q and placed his right hand on his shoulder, gripping him so his thumb pressed just above his collar bone. He turned his head to address Danny. "Now, the trick is-"

In one swift motion, Q knocked the arm away with his left hand and countered quickly with his right, executing a perfect jab to Bond's solar plexus, effectively turning the rest of his sentence into a gasp. "The trick is to act before your attacker can _re_ act," Q finished for him. "Once they're- even temporarily- incapacitated, you can make your escape." He deftly maneuvered around Bond to the coffee table, retrieved his mug, and returned to his earlier position on the couch, balancing his laptop on his knees.

"I take back what I said before," said Danny, having all but collapsed against the wall in a fit of giggles.

James straightened, rubbing his abdomen until he was finally able to draw a proper breath. "You've been practicing with Moneypenny, haven't you?"

"Only two or three times a week," answered Q, smirking into his tea.

James looked too impressed to be chagrinned. "Well, remind me to thank her for seeing to it that our Quartermaster is properly skilled in self defense."

"I'm sure she'd love to hear it," he said.

A chime sounded on Q's laptop and his attention returned to the screen as a new window popped up- an instant messaging system they used around the branch. His gaze lighted on the name establishing communication and he froze.

_TURNER, ALISTAIR_

"What is it?" asked Danny curiously.

Q regained his composure in a blink of his hazel eyes, offering Danny a small smile. "Oh, just the in-office chat. Someone from R&D wants my feedback on some schematics I reviewed recently."

"Would that be for the DB-10?" asked James with sudden interest.

"Never you mind," Q answered with a pointed look.

"You're no fun," said James.

"There's still a lot of work to be done," said Q, meeting that icy blue gaze with meaningful intensity. "And I'd hate to reveal all before the time is right."

James held his gaze just a bit longer than necessary, a shadow of what Q hoped was understanding shifting behind his eyes. "Right. Well, you know what they say," said James, "good things come to those who wait." He lingered for just a moment, then turned to exit the room. "Come on, Danny. Let's leave the Quartermaster to his work. We'll find a more open space. There's a couple more things I'd like to show you."

"Okay," said Danny, following in his wake.

Q watched them go, sparing Danny that small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes until the pair disappeared around the corner. Once they were well out of sight, he returned his attention to the chat window on the screen.

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Quartermaster, are you there?_

He drew a breath and placed his fingers on the keys.

_Q: I'm here, Alistair. Go ahead._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Apologies for the prolonged absence. You must have a lot of questions._

_Q: Not at all. M already briefed me. Glad to have you with us, 009. What do you require?_

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: The project is presently on hold, however before I left I had made considerable progress. It is ready for development and I should like to meet with you in person when circumstances allow._

_Q: Excellent. From what I've already seen, your work looks quite promising. Of course, I would like to discuss security. Especially in light of recent events._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Understood._

For a moment Q hesitated. The typing had ceased on the other end.

_Q: Is there anything else, 009?_

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Yes, actually._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: I wondered if you might do me a personal favour._

_Q: What is it?_

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: I wondered if you might look in on someone for me. A civilian. I fear I might have put him in danger after I left. I just want to make sure he's alright._

Q felt his chest tighten.

_Q: Of course._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Thank you._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: His name is Danny Holt._

For a moment Q stared at the screen. He'd expected this, of course. He knew it had to be Danny he was asking after. The question was how to respond. Obviously M had _not_ briefed him on Danny's situation, as he'd hoped. He thought of Danny; how much pain he'd been in these past weeks thinking his partner had left him and then believing Alex dead. Having _seen_ the body. How much the two of them had been manipulated. He took a breath. No, this decision didn't belong to MI6. It belonged to _them_. It wasn't safe to give him Danny's location. Not yet. But he could at least tell him he was alright.

_Q: Your partner came across a copy of your research. He came to us before it could fall into the wrong hands and has been moved to a safe house. I can assure you that he is well looked after._

There was a long pause.

_Q: I apologize that you were not informed of this sooner. It was my understanding that this would be divulged when you debriefed._

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: Thank you, Q. I appreciate the information._

_Q: Of course._

Another long pause. Q's fingers hovered over the keys.

_Q: Is there anything else I can do for you, 009?_

_TURNER, ALISTAIR: No. Thank you, Q. I'll be in touch._

_Turner, Alistair offline_

Q closed the chat window with a sigh and sat back against the sofa cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well, at least he'd let Alex know that Danny was safe. So why didn't he feel relieved?

A soft _meow_ was his only forewarning before a small fury body alighted on his lap, cutting him off from his laptop. He glanced down to find himself gazing at emerald green eyes. "You're right, Turing," he sighed, scratching between his ears. "I've done all I can for now. Maybe it's time to stop thinking about work for a bit, yeah?"

He reached around Turing for his laptop, careful not to jostle him as he folded it closed and set in on the coffee table. Turning stretched out and began kneading his paws against his leg appreciatively, purring like a small engine. Q sank deeper into the sofa cushions and let his eyes fall closed, idly stroking Turing's fur. Just as he began to drift off he was jolted by the buzzing of his phone. He reached for it with a sigh and swiped the screen. It was a text from R.

_A couple more mods for the DB10 in your inbox. The garage monkeys are nagging for approval so they can get started. Mind taking a look? - R_

He sighed. Well, at least he'd had five minutes.

* * *

Danny lay stretched out on the couch, his socked feet nudged up against Q's thigh as the elder typed away on his laptop. James had kept him occupied for at least an hour with his little self defense lesson and he was exhausted. Not that he was complaining. It was a good distraction and the information was certainly useful, but it was probably the most intense workout he'd ever had in his life. He'd spent a good half hour in the shower and gotten into a comfy pair of track pants and a well worn t-shirt before taking up his present position on the sofa. It was only about eight-o-clock, so he didn't exactly want to go to bed, but the persistent clicking of keys threatened to lull him to sleep before long. That and James's pacing.

The older man, it seemed, had not expelled enough of his restless energy with their little sparring session and was presently pacing the floor, reminding Danny distinctly of a large jungle cat prowling his cage. It was quite fascinating how the man moved with such feline grace. He was rather handsome; even with two days worth of stubble on his jaw. They had similar tastes, really; he and his brother. Both preferred more traditionally "masculine" men. A bit rough around the edges but with a beauty of their own; like James's glacial blue eyes that could draw you in with a single look. He could understand how his brother had become so attracted to him. He was mesmerizing.

"James, would you mind sitting still for five minutes?" said Q, giving his partner a look over his laptop screen. "You're starting to make me dizzy."

Okay, maybe that wasn't _quite_ the reason.

The only response James gave came in the form of a low sound in his throat as he continued his pacing.

Q narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't you growl at me."

Danny snorted, attempting to muffle his laughter by burying his face in the crook of his arm.

"Don't encourage him," said Q, swatting at his leg. But the way his mouth ticked up at the corner belied any genuine annoyance.

"That face you make is all the encouragement I need," said James, halting his pacing. "You're adorable when you're stroppy, Q."

Q sunk lower into the sofa cushions, trying to hide his blush by raising the laptop higher with his knees. "I'll show you stroppy," he grumbled, barely audible behind his laptop.

"Now who's growling?" James smirked.

Danny giggled and rolled onto his back, folding his arms behind his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you two bicker like an old married couple?" he teased, nudging Q's leg with his foot.

"Very funny," said Q, retaliating by raking his nails over the sole of one of Danny's socked feet.

Danny withdrew his foot with a jerk, rubbing it against the couch cushions to rid himself of the sensation. When Q seemed to return to his work, he extended the leg once more, prodding him in the side with his toes and eliciting a squeak. Danny probably should have thought through the disadvantages of his present position before making that move. Q's revenge was swift and brutal.

In the blink of an eye, he'd managed to deposit his laptop safely on the coffee table out of harm's way before pouncing on Danny and pinning him to the couch. The next moment Danny was shrieking with laughter as Q proceeded to tickle him senseless.

James took pity on him a few moments later when he started to struggle for breath. "Alright Q, that's enough," he said, slipping in behind him on the couch. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He reached out with both hands and squeezed Q's sides. Danny just managed to retreat to a safe distance before Q began to flail in protest.

James had him halfway in his lap, clever fingers dancing along his sides and across his ribs. "What's wrong, Quartermaster?" James teased as Q's laughter became more panicked the lower those fingers twitched along his ribs. "Ticklish there?" Then he went in for the kill. He managed to trap both of his wrists with one hand, pinning them tightly against his chest, while his free hand scrabbled wickedly across his belly. He kept tickling that spot until his laughter no longer made sound and there were tears streaming down his face. He finally relented and hauled Q further onto his lap, chuckling as he struggled against the arms wrapped around his middle.

"I really really hate you right now," said Q when he finally caught his breath.

James just grinned and brushed his lips against the side of his neck, his grin broadening as Q squirmed. "You love it when I leave you breathless," he purred in his ear.

Q flushed. "James!-"

A loud buzzing against the coffee table cut off any further retort and Q leaned over, straining a bit against James's hold, to retrieve his phone. He swiped to answer and held it to his ear, leaning back against James's chest.

"Yes, R?" he answered in his crisp Quartermaster voice, swatting at James as he shamelessly began mouthing at his neck.

"Get a room," Danny teased from his new position draped across the adjacent armchair.

James winked at him.

Q stiffened. "What?" he said into the phone. Behind him James stilled, regarding him with a different kind of interest. "That's impossible. How-?" Q shifted around to plant his feet on the floor and flipped open his laptop, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Which systems?" His rapid typing ceased just as quickly as it began. He sat ramrod straight. "Alright. I'm coming in. …No, I can't access it from here. It's in a hidden file on the internal server. Contain what you can, I'll be in as soon as possible."

He hung up the phone and closed his laptop, stuffing it quickly into his messenger bag before rising to his feet. He paused as James pressed a hand to his back. "Security breach," he said in answer to the silent question. "R's done her best to contain it, but I've got to do damage control."

James followed him to the door. "I can drive you in."

"No," said Q, lowering his voice. "I need you to stay with Danny."

"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself," said Danny, annoyed at being talked over as if he wasn't in the room. "I am an adult, you know."

"I don't want to leave you with no security," answered Q. "Not when I don't know the extent of what's been compromised." He gave James a pointed look. "007 has been charged with keeping you safe. That is his first priority."

A muscle ticked in the older man's jaw. "Then we take him with us."

"It isn't safe, James," he responded. "Our intelligence indicates that his present location remains unknown. I won't risk that changing."

"Have Moneypenny come pick you up," James persisted.

Q stared at him. "Bond, you're being ridiculous. I'm perfectly capable of getting to my branch without an escort. And besides, there's no time."

Danny watched as the muscles in James's left hand clenched and unclenched at his side as the older man struggled with whatever we was going to say next.

"Fine," said James. "Just- be careful."

Q blinked at him owlishly, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Fine. I mean- yes. I mean-" he reached for the handle and opened the door. "I'll see you later."

Danny couldn't help the fond smile on his lips as James lingered on that spot, staring at the closed door Q had slipped through with his fists clenched at his sides. "It's okay to care, you know," he said, causing James to turn in surprise, as if he'd forgotten he was there.

James shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets; a picture of indifference. "Your brother needs to learn to have a higher regard for his own personal safety," he answered simply, strolling into the living room.

"Ethan's used to always having to look after himself- or someone else," said Danny. _Namely me,_  the little voice in his head supplied bitterly. "He's never been good about letting anyone look after _him_. Besides, he's been riding the tube on his own since we were kids. He'll be fine."

"Ethan wasn't always the Quartermaster of MI6," said James, taking a seat on the end of the couch. "That's a pretty big target on his back."

Danny frowned. That was one thought he'd successfully managed to leave buried in the back of his mind ever since he learned Ethan's title. He peered at James beneath his fringe, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Do you say that as his partner or 007?"

A muscle ticked in the older man's jaw as he sat with one elbow propped on the arm of the sofa. "Both," he answered, glaring at the opposite wall.

Danny smiled. "Good," he said. "He deserves someone who'll look after him for a change."

Sparkling blue eyes alighted on him, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. "Is this your version of a shovel talk?"

Danny scoffed. "Like I'm going to give a shovel talk to a double-o agent."

"I think you're brave enough to try," said James. "You're brave enough to do anything you set your mind to."

Danny frowned, displeased with the change of subject. "I don't feel very brave," he said, hugging his knees tighter against his chest. "Not hiding in here anyway."

"Call it a tactical retreat," said James. "There's no sense in putting yourself in harm's way when there's nothing to be gained from it. You've done beautifully, Danny. With all of this. I've dealt with plenty of people in your situation who were twice as powerful as you and didn't hold up half as well. There's no shame in knowing when to keep your head down."

"I just want to see him," said Danny, hastily wiping away a tear.

"You will," said James. "As soon as this blows over."

Danny gave a nod, not meeting his eye. James was trying to be encouraging- he knew, and he greatly appreciated it. But all the same, he was getting tired of the word _soon._ All he could think was- _when?_

"Tell me about Ethan," James said suddenly, as though he sensed his darkening thoughts.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

James smiled. "Everything," he said. "You're his younger brother. You must have all the best stories."

Danny smiled in spite of himself. "I could think of a few."

* * *

They sat and talked for a long while as Danny recalled memories he hadn't thought about in years. He talked about all the different ways Ethan found to spend time with him growing up, in spite of living in separate households. How he modified a pair of walkie-talkies to cover the distance between their houses so they could stay up and talk late at night. He told him about the time Ethan was nearly expelled from uni for hacking the NSA from the computer sciences building on a bet. They never could prove it was him, of course. He talked about coming out to his parents; how Ethan had let him stay in his one room flat with him after they went ballistic. It was too much for his father, he supposed, finding out _both_ of his sons were gay.

He talked until his eyelids grew heavy and James suggested he go to bed, at which point he most certainly did _not_ whine that he wanted to stay up until his brother got home. James had conceded with a chuckle and if Danny awoke at 1AM with a blanket over him when Q came in the door, neither of them said anything about it. Q looked exhausted when Danny got out of his chair to say goodnight, and if he hugged him just a little bit tighter and a little bit longer than usual, neither of them said anything about that.

As the house settled and grew quiet, Danny lay awake staring at the ceiling for hours; sleep suddenly elusive. He thought about Alex, wondering if he was in the city and where he might be. If he had thought about him at all since he left. He tried to banish that thought, but it was almost impossible to ignore. After all, shouldn't he have made _some_ effort to contact him by now?

It was nearly 4AM when Danny finally started to drift off; only to be interrupted by the buzzing of his phone beside the bed. He reached over blindly and picked up the device, frowning at the unfamiliar number. He scanned the text, his eyes widening as he slowly began to process the words on the screen.

_Danny, don't tell me where you are, but I need to know you're safe. Can you talk? - Alex_

Danny sat bolt upright in bed, hands shaking as he frantically selected the number on the screen. He lifted the phone to his ear and held his breath as it began to dial. On the second ring he heard a voice he thought he'd never get to hear again.

_"Danny?"_

He released the breath in a gasp, his free hand flying to his mouth to stifle the sound. It was a moment before he managed to form words around the tightness in his throat. "Alex."

A relieved sigh floated over the line. _"Thank god. I was afraid they were lying when they said- Danny, are you okay?"_

"I'm fine." A breathy chuckle escaped him as he remembered their first meeting. "I'm always fine, remember?" He allowed his eyes to fall closed as the first few tears slipped silently down his cheeks. "You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice."

 _"Danny…"_ He sounded sad. _"Danny, I'm so sorry. I should've known. I should never have gotten you involved. I put you in danger-"_

"Don't," he admonished softly, smiling through his tears. "I'm alright, really. I just-" he took a breath. "I need to see you."

_"Danny-"_

"Please, Alex-"

_"It isn't safe-"_

"I don't care," said Danny. "You don't understand. Alex, you-" he faltered as his voice began to break. "You _died_. I found a body in the attic. Everyone said it was you. I can't- I need-" He took a breath, struggling to find his voice again. "I have to see you. With my own eyes. I need to be able to touch you. I have to be sure this isn't a dream."

For a moment the line was quiet until he began to fear that perhaps he really _was_ dreaming. Finally, Alex spoke.

_"I can't believe you even wish to speak to me. After everything I've put you through-"_

"It doesn't matter," said Danny. "None of it. D'you understand? I love you. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I'll always love you."

 _"I love you too, Danny,"_ he answered thickly. _"Always."_

Danny smiled and rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tears. "Meet me," he said resolutely. "Tonight."

_"Danny, you can't give me your location. We don't know if the line is secure-"_

"Then I'll come to you," he insisted. "The place where we met. Can you meet me in an hour?"

_"Danny… I really don't know if-"_

"Look, the people I'm staying with will be awake in a couple of hours. If I don't sneak out now, I'll never get past them," said Danny. "Just- be there. Alright?"

Alex sighed in defeat. _"Alright. Just promise you'll be careful."_

Danny smiled. "Promise. I'll see you soon."

* * *

The streets of London were quiet as Danny walked with his hood pulled up, keeping out of the light of the street lamps as much as possible. The night sky was just beginning to fade to grey. He kept his steps light, but even the sound of the soft soles of his sneakers hitting the pavement seemed to thunder in his ears. He glanced back over his shoulder. The street was entirely empty. Taking a breath to settle his nerves, he continued on his way. Just a few more blocks. A few more blocks until he got to the bridge. He wondered if Alex was already waiting for him there.

He glanced back over his shoulder as he heard footsteps behind him, his heart leaping to his throat as a man stepped out from the side street he'd just passed. Danny shook his head as if to clear it and continued on his way, chiding himself. Just because the man was going the same direction didn't mean he was _following_ him. Still, he quickened his pace. One more turn. Once he took that left up ahead he would see the bridge. He'd see Alex.

Suddenly another man stepped out onto the street, blocking his path. Danny's steps faltered. He glanced back to see that the man behind him had also stopped. He looked Danny straight in the eye- and grinned. _Shit._

Danny bolted. He tried to sidestep the man in his path, but he managed to get a hold of his arm. He spun around and delivered a jab to his attacker's midsection- just like James and Q had taught him- managing to break free. He didn't make it to the end of the street before the other one caught him.

Danny struggled wildly as he was grabbed from behind, arms pinned to his sides as a gloved hand covered his mouth, stifling any cries for help. The man grunted as he managed a kick to his shin, but never loosened his grip. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as the other man approached. When he saw what he held in his hand, Danny's struggles became more frantic.

"Enough of that," growled the man he had temporarily incapacitated, gripping his jaw roughly. He lifted the syringe.

Danny couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as the needle plunged into the side of his neck. Within seconds his muscles began to slacken of their own accord. His legs no longer seemed capable of holding him. Before he lost consciousness, he could see a shimmer of light reflecting off the Thames, heralding the dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> You didn't think I'd reunite them that easily did you?
> 
> I know, I know. I'm evil. >:)
> 
> Prepare for brother feels and lots more action in the next chapter. We are drawing near the close. Until next time!
> 
> Please comment. :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I spent a good part of the last week in Seattle (which I'm now in love with, btw) and didn't get in any writing time. I hope the lengthy chapter makes up for it after leaving you guys on a cliffhanger! 
> 
> It's kind of funny to me that I originally only meant for this to be 4-5 chapters. This is the first multi-chapter story I've written that I didn't outline ahead of time as well. I can honestly say it's taken on a life of it's own- and it's been a lot of fun.
> 
> This has not been beta'd. Initially I thought to split it, but then decided not to; so I sort of flew through the editing process. I was determined to post tonight since I work tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you like it. We're drawing near the close!

A loud buzzer disturbed the early morning quiet, awakening Q with a jolt. He reached across to the nightstand blindly, straining against the arm around his waist to retrieve his phone. After a full minute of incessant buzzing, he finally managed to silence the alarm. He squinted at the screen. 6:30AM. He sighed. It didn't feel like he'd slept at all.

Q lay there a few minutes longer before he managed to rouse himself- only to be met with resistance when he attempted to disentangle himself from the arm around his waist.

"S'too early," James grumbled, pulling him back down on the bed.

"I've got work to do," answered Q. "MI6's firewalls won't patch themselves."

"Let the minions handle it," he said without opening his eyes.

"The minions aren't in until 9," he answered, trying to wriggle free.

James tightened his hold, still not opening his eyes. "My Q," he muttered.

"Oh, for god's sake," he sighed, turning over in the circle of his arms until they were facing each other. "When did you get to be so clingy?"

James didn't answer, seeming to have drifted off once more.

"Bond."

He opened his eyes.

"I have to work."

James' hand trailed the length of his side, coming to rest on his hip. He gave it a squeeze, pulling him closer. "What if I have other plans for you this morning?" he purred.

"I'll make it up to you later," Q answered, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "I need to shower."

"A shower sounds lovely," he grinned wolfishly.

Q propped himself up on an elbow, giving the older man a longsuffering look. "Fine," he said. "But if I have to finish washing up with cold water again I'm withholding sex for a week." He threw the covers off and marched to the bathroom without a second glance at the agent. He knew he'd follow close behind.

Q's threat must've held because they were out of the shower with warm water to spare, James having made rather efficient use of their time. He dressed in his traditional slacks and cardigan over a button down in spite of planning to work from home. The cardigan was a deep maroon that James hated; or perhaps that was just an excuse for his continuous attempts to divest him of it. He gave up tucking in his shirt and forewent the tie. Those wandering hands were sure to undo them anyway this far from the office.

Q passed the guest bedroom on his way down the stairs, not surprised to see the door closed. It was barely 7:30.

He wandered into the kitchen in his socks and put the kettle on, making up a plate of toast to take to the living room. He'd just settled in front of his laptop when James wandered in, dressed in jeans and a light blue polo that did wonders to bring out the color of his eyes. The agent's gaze swept the living room, a deep furrow forming in his brow. "Where's Danny?" he asked.

"Sleeping, I'm sure," said Q, taking a sip from his mug. "It's still early."

James turned to face him. "His shoes are missing," he said.

Q paused, mug in hand, glancing between his agent and the front door beside which sat his own shoes alongside a pair of Bond's. Danny's sneakers were nowhere in sight. "He probably took them up to his room," he reasoned, ignoring the sense of dread settling in his stomach.

"Are you sure?" asked Bond.

Wordlessly, Q deposited his mug and laptop on the coffee table and rose to his feet. He slipped past Bond, affecting an air of calm, and glided slowly up the stairs.

At the door to the guest room he hesitated for a moment before finally reaching for the handle and slowly pushing it open. "Danny?" he called softly. "It's just me."

There was no answer.

As he opened the door wider, his fears were confirmed. The bed was empty.

Q backed out of the room and turned on his heel- nearly colliding with Bond's chest.

"He's not in the house," said Bond.

"He has to be," said Q. He would not panic.

"Q." Bond's hands held him in place, gripping him gently by the arms. "He's not here."

Q stood frozen at the finality of those words. His mind was racing. _He can't have gone. He wouldn't have done anything so reckless…_ "His phone," he remembered suddenly. "I can track his phone."

He slipped past Bond and quickly descended the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing in case his knees decided to give out. He wasn't sure how much he trusted them right now. He returned to the sofa and flung open his laptop, fingers flying over the keys. He pulled up the tracking program in search of the little green dot on the map. Nothing. His gaze dipped to the bottom of the screen.

_STATUS: OFFLINE_

"Shit." He glanced up as Bond approached. "The phone's turned off," he answered the question in the older man's gaze. "The tracker I implanted was linked to the phone's GPS. I had to work with what I had on hand at the time. If the phone or the GPS is off, I can't track it."

Bond stepped closer. "Q-"

"I need my phone," he answered, ignoring the growing concern in the agent's tone. He was _not_ panicking. "Where the bloody fuck is-" He found the device in question on the other end of the coffee table, snatching it up and rising to his feet. He tried Danny first. It went straight to voicemail. Definitely off. He only hesitated for a moment before flying through his list of contacts to another number. He lifted the phone to his ear.

It wasn't picked up until the fourth ring.

_"Hello?"_

"Scottie," breathed Q, slightly relieved. "It's- it's Ethan. Is Danny with you?"

_There was a long pause. "Ethan?" came the incredulous reply. Then, more accusingly, "How did you get this number?"_

Q fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Danny gave it to me for emergencies," he explained quickly. "I wouldn't be calling otherwise-"

_"Well, he should've asked me first-"_

"Scottie! Will you-" He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. James stood at his elbow. "Look," he continued, "Danny is missing. I just need to know if he's alright. Is he there?"

_He scoffed. "And why should I tell you?"_

"Did you not hear me?" Q had had it. He stood with his fist clenched at his side, his tone taking on a dangerous edge. "Danny is _missing_. I have no idea where he went or how long he's been gone, but I _do_ know that there are some very dangerous people out there that are looking to do him harm. I will do whatever it takes to see that he's safe. If anything's happened to him and you're _wasting my time_ , I swear to god I will do everything in my considerable power to make your life a living hell to the end of your days. Do you understand?"

For a moment there was silence, causing Q to wonder if he had disconnected the call. Then he heard a faint chuckle over the line.

_"Making threats now, are we? Well, dear boy, you are not the first nor, I'm sure, will you be the last. I told him to be careful around you; not to get involved. If he's gotten into more trouble, I'm sure you're at the heart of it. I wouldn't tell you where he was even if I knew-"_

Q disconnected the call with far more force than necessary, only barely resisting the urge to hurl the phone against the wall. He felt like screaming.

"Q-" James moved into his space, gripping him gently by the arms.

Q took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing his eyes to fall closed for a moment. "I really hate that man."

James clenched his jaw. "You should've let me talk to him," he growled.

He shook his head. "It wouldn't have done any good. Scottie used to be with Six, you know," he said, slipping out of Bond's grasp to gather up his laptop. "And he was a damn good spy, from what I've read in the archives. They took everything from him when he was out-ed. At this point, I doubt he believes he has anything more to lose." He moved toward the door. "Anyway, we're wasting time. I need to get to Q-branch; find another way to track him." As he bent to retrieve his shoes he felt a hand on the small of his back.

"We'll find him," said James.

Q sighed. "I hope you're right."

* * *

As Danny slowly regained consciousness, it felt as if he was underwater; everything seemed muted, yet his body felt like lead. He tried to move his arms and was immediately met with resistance. As he slowly opened his eyes, he discovered that both of his wrists were bound to the arms of the chair he now sat in and he remembered; the two men who caught him on his way to the bridge, a gloved hand over his mouth muffling his cries for help. In his mind, he was panicking, but the lingering effects of the sedative he'd been given kept him from so much as making a sound. He wasn't sure he could move even if his wrists weren't bound.

A single glance around the small space revealed that he was alone in the room. There were no windows; only a single bulb suspended from the ceiling offered any illumination. He blinked and shook his head as the drug's effects finally began to wear off. How long had he been out? Hours? Days? He had nothing to go on.

Moments later a door opened on his right and he tensed as two men entered the room, though neither seemed to acknowledge his presence. Danny tracked their movements with his gaze. He recognized the first man who had followed behind him; the shaved head and cold grey eyes. Wordlessly, the man retrieved a chair from the corner and set it down to face him, just to Danny's left. He took a seat and stared at him with a glint in his eye that was absolutely predatory. It was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"What do you want?" Danny croaked, voice hoarse from disuse.

The man just grinned.

He turned his head as the second man- the one who had drugged him- stepped further into his line of vision, leaning lazily against the wall in front of him with his arms folded across his chest. He couldn't be much taller than Danny, but he was stocky; probably much more efficient in a fight. He had close cropped blond hair that was nearly white and equally cold, calculating eyes. His expression was a mask of indifference, which did little to settle his nerves.

Danny swallowed, glancing between his captors. "Who are you?" he tried more forcefully. "What do you want?"

Again he was met with silence.

"Look, I don't know what you're after," said Danny, deciding to play dumb, "but I haven't got any money. And I don't have many friends. There's nothing-"

The second man struck him hard across the face, effectively cutting him off midsentence. "Lying will get you nowhere, Mr. Holt," said the man in an accent he couldn't quite place. "We know everything about you- and you know exactly what we want; so let's not insult each other's intelligence."

Danny shook his head. "I don't-"

He struck him again, snapping his head to one side. He tasted blood.

"And you'll speak only when we tell you to," said the man. "Do you understand?"

Danny nodded.

He grinned. "Very good." He turned to his companion. "He learns."

The man in the opposite chair smiled.

The sound of something vibrating attracted the light haired man's attention and he straightened, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a phone. He glanced at the screen and turned to his companion. "Watch him," he said, turning to the door as he raised the phone to his ear.

The other man nodded, not taking his eyes off Danny as he left the room, plunging them into silence once more.

Danny looked to his silent captor warily as the man simply continued to stare back, unblinking. Danny clenched his jaw and kept his silence, sensing somehow that this man was the greater threat of the two.

As if he could read his thoughts, the man smiled.

* * *

Four hours. It had been four hours since Danny was supposed to meet him at Lambeth Bridge. Three hours and thirty-seven minutes since he began his search. Alex was getting desperate.

When Danny didn't show up, he had called him immediately, but all calls to his mobile went directly to voicemail. A quick and dirty hack job into the nearest CCTV had confirmed his worst fear; Danny had been taken. Not only that, but these people were professionals. Minutes after Alex viewed the footage it had been wiped- but not before he got a look at the number plate on the vehicle. And if there was one thing he was good with, it was numbers.

Alex pursued the car for hours, but they were always one step ahead of him; wiping CCTV footage along their route and keeping mostly off the main roads. The more time passed, the more desperate he felt- and the more angry he was at himself. He never should have agreed to meet Danny in the open. How could he have been so stupid?

The buzzing of his mobile distracted his attention as he took another sharp turn down a side street. He was determined to ignore it until he recognized the number on the screen. It was Danny. As quickly as he could, Alex pulled off to the side and threw the car in park. With trembling hands, he reached for his mobile.

"Hello?"

At first he was met with silence, the only indication that the call was active being the faint white noise carrying over the line.

_"Hello, Alistair," came a smooth, slightly accented voice over the line. "I'm pleased to finally meet you. Well… speak to you, that is. I am quite a fan of your work."_

Alex clenched his jaw. "Who is this?" he demanded. "What have you done with Danny?"

_"Now, now," he cooed. "There's no need for such hostility. This is just a simple discussion; a business transaction if you will. You can have Daniel back; safe and sound and all to yourself before lunch time if you like. I only ask for one small thing in return."_

"You're after my research," said Alex.

_The man chuckled over the line. "Straight to the point; I think you and I will get along quite nicely," he said. "Very good. We arrange a time and place. You give me the data, I give you Daniel. A simple trade."_

Alex swallowed. "How do I know you'll keep your word?" he said. "How do I know you even have Danny? Or that you haven't already…" he couldn't complete the thought.

_"A fair question," he said. "Perhaps you would like to speak to him." There was a soft 'click.' "Tell Daniel to say hello."_

Alex's breath caught as static carried over the line and he heard a rustle of movement; then the voice that filled him with equal measures of hope and dread.

_"Alex?"_

"Danny," he breathed. "Danny, are you okay? Have they hurt you?"

_"I'm alright," was the strained reply. "Alex-"_

"I'm going to get you out-"

_"No! Alex, listen," Danny sounded frantic. "Don't give them what they want. You know what they'll do with it and they'll kill you anyway."_

"Danny-"

_"You know it's true, Alex, promise me-" Danny's words were cut off in a sharp cry._

"Danny!"

_"Alex, don't-"_

The line disconnected.

Alex sat frozen.

 _"So, you see,"_ drawled that smooth voice over the line, causing him to start- he didn't think he was still there. _"You don't have much of a choice here, do you? Bring me the data or ensure you lover's slow and painful death. Your choice."_

Alex drew a shaky breath. "Who are you?"

_"The future, dear boy," he said. "I am the future. But you may call me Blofeld."_

* * *

Q stood at the command desk in the middle of his branch, directing his staff as they scurried between work stations. So far they'd had no luck with CCTV. It appeared that any useful footage from earlier that morning had been wiped, the only saving grace being that they were at least able to follow the pattern of missing footage to narrow their search. It was proving quite tedious. They had yet to receive any communication from any hostile parties, but 009 was MIA and he knew he needed to prepare for the worst. Q struggled to maintain his composure knowing full well that M was watching his every move. He would not give his superior a reason to pull him from this mission.

"Sir, we've located 009," said R, gaining his attention. "He's headed east on the A11 just past Mile End."

 _Finally,_ thought Q, relief that the man was alright giving way to fury that he had not reported in. "Get him on the line."

"Shall I call him in, sir?" said R.

"I will speak to him personally," he answered. "Thank you, R."

She nodded from her station, fingers flying over her keyboard. After a moment, she frowned. "Still not answering his mobile, sir."

"Company car?" he asked.

The corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk. "Yes, sir."

"Idiot," he grumbled. "Patch me through the blue tooth."

"On it."

Q drummed his fingers on the desk while R accessed the car's systems remotely. A moment later the speakers on the comm system in front of him crackled to life, filtering through the sound of a car travelling along the road. "009, this is your Quartermaster speaking," he said crisply. "Would you care to explain what the bloody hell you think you're doing and why you keep avoiding my calls?"

_There was a brief pause before Alex's voice carried over the line. "It's rather difficult to explain, sir. The man I told you about, Danny, he's-"_

"I am well aware that Daniel Holt went missing early this morning," said Q, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "Seeing as this occurred around the same time that you went off the grid, I'd say that you have some explaining to do. Turn the car around and report to Q-branch immediately."

_"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir," said Alex. "He's been abducted. There isn't much time."_

Q's breath caught, but he fought not to let it show on his face, aware of M's eyes on him. "How can you be sure?" he asked, affecting the aloof tone of MI6's Quartermaster.

_"I've just been contacted," he said. "They'll call again with a time and a place to meet, but I think I can track them before-"_

"And you plan to attempt an extraction on your own?" Q was furious. "009, you are _not_ a one man army. You are a double-o agent. You will follow protocol and you will work with your team. I will not allow you to proceed with no support. Report to Q-branch. Now."

For a moment there was silence. M stepped forward to stand at Q's elbow. "009, your Quartermaster just gave you an order," said M. "I suggest you comply."

_Another pause. "Yes, sir."_

* * *

Alex was furious. The car was barely in park before he wrenched the door open and marched down to Q-branch, fists clenched at his sides. So close. He'd been so close to Danny and now it was all for nothing. He would be forced to channel hostage negotiations through MI6. And he knew that getting Danny out alive would not be their top priority. Why the hell didn't he just keep going?

When he reached the final level of security into Q-branch, the guard informed him that Q was waiting for him in his office. He paused just long enough to be directed before continuing his quick march to his destination.

The Q-branch "minions," as Ms. Moneypenny called them, all but sprang out of his way as he moved through the space, having seemingly detected the mutinous glint in his eyes. Only on his final approach to the door of Q's office did he slow his stride; taking in the impeccably dressed yet imposing figure stationed just outside. Glacial blue eyes met his evenly from a weathered face. No doubt the man was a veteran agent; his experience showed in the lines on his face. Nevertheless, Alex kept his head up and shoulders back, meeting that icy gaze evenly.

"009," the man greeted with a curt nod.

Alex paused. "I'm sorry, have we met?" he answered coolly.

The man smiled. "Forgive me. Where are my manners?" He extended a hand. "007."

Alex took the offered hand with slight hesitation and was met with a crushing grip.

"Q's waiting for you inside," said 007, not breaking eye contact for an instant. His grin looked far more predatory this close. He released his hand, allowing the blood to rush back to his fingers, and held the door open.

Alex stepped inside, urged forward by the not-so-gentle nudge of 007's hand on his back. He turned back to glare at the man, but the door was already closing behind him. He faced forward, moving further into the room- and froze in his tracks. Standing behind the Quartermaster's desk stood… Danny? Wearing glasses? He blinked. No. No it wasn't Danny, but he couldn't shake it the longer he stared at the man in front of him. The resemblance was striking.

"009," greeted the crisp voice he recognized from earlier. "Good of you to join us." He indicated the chair in front of his desk. "Have a seat."

Alex stood rooted to the spot.

Q sighed. "Alex, sit down," he said, his tone considerably gentler than before. The man looked… weary.

Silently, Alex obeyed, lowering himself slowly into the offered chair. Then it registered; "How do you know my name?"

"I told you before; M already briefed me," he said, taking a seat. "And in answer to the question that you haven't- or should I say _won't_ ask; Danny is my brother. I can assure you that I wish to see him safely returned just as much if not- dare I say- more so than you do. So let's not waste time. Tell me what you know."

* * *

Danny's breath was coming in gasps as he stared up at his silent captor, struggling to keep still as the blade pressed against his throat. His whole body ached from the beating he'd received earlier. The cut on his ribs stung with every intake of breath; punishment for his outburst when Alex was on the line.

"I'll ask you again," growled the only one of the two seemingly capable of speech from somewhere to his right, "what is your connection to the Quartermaster of MI6?"

"I've told you; I don't know what you're talking about," Danny insisted, straining away from the blade.

"You bring this on yourself, you know," said the man.

Danny laughed bitterly- maybe he was finally losing it. "What are you going to do? Kill me? You've got nothing else to bargain with."

"No," he answered. "Not yet. But we can certainly make things more unpleasant."

The man with the knife pressed a fist against the cut on his ribs, causing him to cry out.

"So don't push me," said the man still out of his line of sight.

They were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone and the man stopped to answer it, this time not bothering to leave the room. "Sir?"

 _"That'll do for now,"_ Danny heard faintly over the line. _"I have all the information I need."_

* * *

Q's fingers flew over the keys as lines of code filled the screen. The data drive Danny had given him was plugged into his laptop. A few more lines and he'd be finished.

The plan was simple; they would send Alex to do the exchange- hand over the drive. All the files would appear intact upon inspection- for a good fifteen minutes. Just enough time to get Danny out of danger. Then Q's hidden program would go to work destabilizing all of their systems. His own little Trojan Horse. He'd be ecstatic to see it in action if he wasn't so terrified. They only had one shot at this.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Alex, voicing his concerns.

"Yes," answered Q because he couldn't consider the alternative. "At least long enough to complete the exchange. 007 will be your backup if there's any trouble. I've outfitted him with a few new gadgets that should prove useful in a pinch."

"You're sure he's my best option for support?" Alex pressed, eyeing the older man warily through the glass where he stood like a statue outside Q's office.

"007 has the best extraction record of any agent this department has ever seen," said Q a little defensively. "And I trust him implicitly." He paused. "Don't tell him I said that."

A few more keystrokes and he finally lifted his fingers from the keys. "There," he said with satisfaction, ejecting the drive and holding it out to Alex. "Now all we have to do is-"

A harsh knock on the door preceded R's appearance in the doorway, looking as anxious as Q had ever seen her. "Sir, we're receiving communication."

Q frowned. "Odd," he said, turning to Alex. "Have you had any new calls come through?"

Alex retrieved his phone from the inner pocket of his jacket and glanced at the screen. "No."

"It's not routing to 009's mobile, sir," said R. "The call came directly into Q-branch. They're requesting to speak with you."

"Impossible," muttered Q, but he was already at the door.

He followed R out to the command desk with Alex and now Bond at his heels. He did not make eye contact with M as he stepped up to the comms. He turned on his mic. "This is the Quartermaster speaking," he said airily. "With whom do I have the pleasure?"

_A throaty chuckle carried over the line. "The pleasure's all mine, Quartermaster. I assure you."_

Q exchanged a glance with Alex. "Blofeld, is it?" Alex nodded. "What do you want?"

_"What indeed," said Blofeld. "I must say I'm impressed. I was quite sure your new agent would come straight to us to rescue his lover. But it seems you have swayed him somehow to do things your way. I confess, it made me curious."_

"MI6 is a unit, Mr. Blofeld. And a lethal one at that," Q answered dangerously. "You've already kicked the hornets' nest. Don't press your luck. Now, are we to arrange the exchange or will you proceed to waste my time?"

_He laughed. "So demanding. Even when things have spiraled so far beyond your control," he mused. "Funny. You sound nothing alike in spite of the striking resemblance between you."_

Q swallowed, fighting to ignore the cold sense of dread seeping into his chest. He could feel their eyes on him; M's piercing gaze away to his right, Alex at his elbow, Bond standing somewhere behind him, R and all of his techs scattered around the room. He gripped the edge of the desk, struggling to regain his composure. "I don't-"

_"I have new terms to discuss," Blofeld went on. "I will return Daniel to your agent as promised, but there is something else I require in return."_

"And what is that?" said Q.

 _"You, Quartermaster," he said, a smile in his voice. "Or should I say-_ Ethan? _Ethan Charles Holt."_

The monitor at the head of Q-branch came to life, revealing the camera feed from a darkened room, illuminated by a single bare bulb. The surroundings were impossible to determine in the poor lighting, but none of this registered to Q. Tied to a chair in the center of the room, his tear stained face toward the camera was-

"Danny-"

_He lifted his head on the screen, eyes frantically searching the darkness. "Ethan?"_

Q's breath caught. He could hear him then. He swallowed hard. "Danny, are you alright?"

It was a stupid question, really. In the dim light it was difficult to determine his condition. He could see a slight bruise forming on his cheek, his concern growing over what he _couldn't_ see. As his gaze roved over his brother's slight form, that concern gave way to fear. There was blood seeping through his shirt on his left side. It was unmistakable.

_"I'm okay," Danny answered just the same. But the façade quickly fractured and he took a breath, dissolving into tears. "Ethan, I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "I didn't tell them anything. They figured it out- the texts on my phone-"_

"It's alright, Danny," he soothed, trying to ignore all the eyes in the room. "Listen, Alex is here too." He beckoned him closer to the comms, allowing him to speak into the mic.

"Hello, Danny," he said hoarsely.

Danny smiled sadly. "Hello, Alex." He sniffed. "This isn't the way I wanted you two to meet."

That startled a breathy laugh out of Q. "Well, here we are," he said.

_"I wish I could see you," said Danny._

Q's breath hitched. "You will," he managed. "Danny, listen. We're going to get you out-"

_Danny shook his head. "No, Ethan," he said, smiling sadly. "It's not your job to come to my rescue all the time, remember?"_

Q struggled to keep his voice from breaking. "Yes it is," he said.

_"Not this time," said Danny. "I won't risk you as well. Neither of you, do you understand?"_

"Danny, please-"

_"They'll kill you. You know that-"_

Q could hear a rustling over the audio and grew suddenly frantic. "Danny- Danny, listen to me-"

_"Don't," said Danny. "Don't you dare. I'm sorry. I love you."_

And the feed went static.

"Danny-"

_Blofeld's voice crackled over the line. "You have one hour to agree to my demands," he said, "or our next point of contact will be the live feed from his execution. We'll be in touch."_

And the line went dead.

For a moment Q was silent, the only sound he was aware of being that of his own heart pounding in his ears. He was only vaguely aware of Alex crying silently beside him.

R was the first to break the silence. "Sir?"

"Did we trace it?" said Q. "Can we track the signal?"

R shook her head sadly. "Negative, sir. They bounced it off too many different servers. It'd take days to sort it."

It was too much. Finally, Q snapped. In one swift motion he swept everything from the surface of the desk, sending monitor and comms crashing to the floor, his breath coming in gasps.

James was there in an instant, gripping him by the arms. "Q- breathe," he said softly, moving into his space so that their foreheads were almost touching. "You need to breathe."

One hand trailed down his arm and came to rest on his hip, a gentle squeeze from that callused hand serving to ground him. Q suddenly realized just how close together they stood; and how everyone was watching. He took a step back and straightened his cardigan, trying to affect an air of calm though he felt like screaming.

He turned to find Alex still rooted to the same spot, staring at the now blank screen. He appeared adrift in a storm tossed sea; trapped in his thoughts. Q lifted a hand and laid it on his shoulder. Stormy blue eyes met his gaze, and in that moment a profound sense of understanding seemed to pass between them.

"R, take over," commanded M, attracting Q's attention. He marched over to the desk where they stood, beckoning them with one hand. "Bond, Turner, Q, with me." And he stalked off toward Q's office, giving them no choice but to follow.

"Sir," Q began once they were behind closed doors, "we can still do this. We stick to the plan. Only I go in place of 009. We can still-"

"That is absolutely out of the question," said M.

"Sir-"

"I will _not_ risk the best Quartermaster this department has ever had for the sake of one civilian!" he shot back. "We will find another way."

Q felt as if he'd been slapped. "Sir-"

"Now, it gives me no pleasure to do this, Q, but I am relieving you of this mission," said M gravely. "009 as well. It is a conflict of interest."

Q shook his head. "Sir, you can't-"

"Q." Bond laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. "M's right. We can't risk sending you in. We'll figure something out. Let R take it from here."

Q stared at him in shock. Bond's expression was a mask. Beside him, Alex was silent.

"Thank you, 007," said M. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to escort 009 and our Quartermaster from the premises. Take them to a secure location until we can sort out this mess."

Bond gave a curt nod. "Sir."

* * *

Q leaned against the wall of the car park, arms folded tightly across his chest while he and Alex waited for Bond to bring the car around. Why he'd insisted they wait here was beyond him, but he was too angry at the man to care. How could he betray him like this?

"I'm sorry," said Alex, finally breaking his silence.

Q blinked at him, having been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he nearly forgot he was there. "For what?"

"All of this is my fault," he said miserably. "I shouldn't have called Danny. I should have trusted you when you told me he was safe. I should've known he'd insist on meeting."

Q sighed. "If there's one thing you need to know about my brother, it's that he is exceedingly stubborn. And persuasive," he said. "Once he's set his mind on something there's no stopping him. I don't blame you, Alex. If anything I blame myself."

A sleek black Jaguar pulled up in front of them, putting an end to the conversation. Q watched as Bond stepped out from the driver's side and stood in front of them, hands in his pockets and looking as smug as ever.

"Well," said Q irritably, "what are you waiting for? Must you put us in handcuffs as well before you whisk us off to the Tower of London or wherever the hell it is we're going?"

"Maybe later," he answered with a smirk.

Q fumed.

"Come on, Q, you're smarter than that," James purred. He gave a nod over his shoulder. "Don't you recognize the car?"

Q narrowed his eyes, first at Bond, then the vehicle behind him. It looked like Bond's Jag at first glance, only…

"This isn't your car," said Q. "This is a prototype I've been working on. You stole it from Q-branch-"

"Well, I figured we could use a little extra firepower for this mission," he smirked. "Plus I know how you need your tech. Your laptop's in there as well. Your minions are loyal little things, you know."

Q stared at him. "Oh, you bastard. You absolute bastard-" In the next breath he practically launched himself at Bond, crushing their lips together in a searing kiss. The older man chuckled against his lips before responding in kind, the two of them oblivious to the world around them until they eventually needed to come up for air.

Alex stared between the two. "I… think I missed something."

James laughed. "We'll explain it when you're older."

Q smacked him. "Get in the car."

"Yes, sir," he purred, slipping away to the driver's side door- but not before pinching his arse and earning another smack.

Q turned to Alex, a little red faced and feeling a bit giddy. Alex probably thought he'd gone mad. Still, the younger man met his gaze evenly. "Alex, I need to ask you something; the most important question I will ever ask you in your life."

"What is it?" asked Alex.

"How far are you willing to go to get Danny back?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Danny. This is not what I originally intended. Why am I so evil? ;_; I also really didn't mean to make M seem like an asshole. I love M. I don't know what's happening, I swear these guys are making decisions without me...
> 
> But, hey; Q and the double-o's to the rescue right? :D
> 
> Please comment! I live for you comments. And it'll get me through my long work day tomorrow. ;)
> 
> Thank you all again for your continued support! You are beautiful and ily. :3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are; the penultimate chapter. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed writing this and only hope that you all have enjoyed it just as much. I'm blown away by all the support this has received. This is my first fic to reach 100 kudos. I can't thank you all enough!
> 
> So without further ado, enjoy the final chapter before the Epilogue. :)

Treason. Apparently Alex was prepared to commit treason to get Danny back. Or at least to go against a direct order from his superior. It was proving to be a trying day. But as Alex sat in the passenger seat, hanging on for dear life while 007 endeavored to break every traffic law in London, he found that he cared very little about what might happen to him. That last image of Danny had been seared onto the backs of his eyelids. He’d burn down the world if it meant bringing him home safe.

“Take a left up ahead,” said Q from behind him, laptop balanced on his knees as he clicked away on his keyboard.

007 glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“We need to make a stop,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Just trust me.”

The veteran agent narrowed his eyes but complied just the same, taking a sharp left down a side street. A couple of blocks down Alex understood Q’s objective.

“Well,” Bond grumbled, pulling off to one side, “the more the merrier.”

Q shifted over a bit as the rear door opened and Moneypenny slid into the seat beside him.

“Evening, boys,” she greeted cheerily. “Nice night for a coup, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t know you’d be joining us, Ms. Moneypenny,” said Bond as he pulled out onto the street once more.

“Well, I couldn’t let you boys have all the fun,” she answered.

“As long as I don’t get shot,” he muttered under his breath.

She grinned.

“We need all the help we can get,” Alex interjected. “We don’t know how many we’re up against.”

“Thank you, 009,” said Q. “We need to focus. What have you got, Moneypenny?”

“New information,” she said, turning serious. “They’ve arranged a meeting time and place; 1900, the old Babylon-On-Thames.”

Bond quirked an eyebrow. “A bit pretentious.”

“Well, this Blofeld fellow does seem rather fond of theatrics,” said Q.

Alex turned to glance at Moneypenny over his shoulder. “Do you know what M plans to do?”

She nodded. “He’s putting a team together. He plans to infiltrate the facility; figures nobody knows the place better than us, in spite of the mess. He plans to make the extraction about fifteen minutes before the appointed time; when they’re sure Danny will be in the building but before they have their people in place.”

“So they’re just going to burst in, no visual, with only a fifteen-minute window?” Q rubbed his face behind his glasses. “That’s a huge risk,” he said wearily.

“M thinks it’s less of a risk than sending in our Quartermaster,” she answered, giving him a meaningful look.

Alex frowned. “So what are we going to do?”

“R is sending me the details of their progress,” Q answered, again all business. “We need to be in position before they arrive. Bond?”

“Our best option is to draw them out,” said Bond. “We stick with the original plan; send in 009 first. All the better that he’s going against orders. Let them think that he’s on his own; or that he’s gone rogue.”

Alex eyed the older man skeptically. “And what am I going to say that will draw them out?” he asked. “They won’t settle for the data now. They want Q.”

“You just need to stall them,” Bond answered. “Tell them you can get them to Q, but you need more time. And that you need to see Danny to be sure of his condition after that last communication. Once they’re out in the open, we can make our move.”

“But what if they don’t buy it?” asked Moneypenny. “We can’t expect them to believe he’ll actually go through with it. And even if he tried, they’d have to know that MI6 would be prepared for something like that and would have moved Q to a secure location by now.”

“I have a better idea,” said Q. “But I can’t promise that any of you are going to like it.”

* * *

Danny never thought he’d be so grateful to be able to move his arms again. His wrists felt raw from being bound all those hours and his whole body ached, but at least he could move again. There was just the small matter of the gun pressed against his back.

His captors led him up a fractured staircase and through a maze of corridors until they finally reached an exit. The whole place was a mess of debris. When they finally stepped outside and he got a good look at the massive structure behind him, Danny finally knew where he was.

The bald headed man behind him gave him a shove with the hand that wasn’t holding the gun, forcing him to put his back to the ruined MI6 building, where he found himself looking out along an empty street. As he was none-so-gently urged along, further from the building and onto the pavement, he could see heavily armed men flanking the building on either side of him, guns raised at a point just ahead. Danny followed their line of sight, noticing the lone figure striding towards them for the first time. He felt his heart stop.

Q came to a halt at the end of the pavement, head held high as hazel eyes swept over the assembly, coming to rest- just briefly- on Danny before moving on again. He stood ramrod straight, fists clenched at his sides. “Evening, gentleman,” he said primly.

The light haired man, who, it seemed, had become the designated spokesman in all this, strode towards him. “And who might you be?” He eyed Q up and down. “Did MI6 think they could send an intern in place of their Quartermaster?” he sneered.

The men behind him laughed.

“My name is Ethan Holt,” said Q. “I _am_ the Quartermaster. I’m here to negotiate a trade. You will let Danny go to the end of the block. There he will meet my agent and be allowed to return home. In exchange,” he reached into his pocket, retrieving the silver cylinder that started this whole mess and holding it aloft, “I will hand over Project Alistair, and… myself.”

“Ethan, no!” Danny lunged forward without thinking, but the man behind him wrapped an arm around his throat. He felt the barrel of the gun pressed against his skull but still he strained against his hold.

“If any further harm comes to him the deal is off!” Q shouted, holding out a hand in warning, his gaze darting between the man holding Danny and his counterpart.

At a nod from the spokesman of the two Danny felt the grip on him loosen, if only slightly.

As the man stepped towards him, Q straightened, meeting his gaze evenly. “Blofeld I presume?” he said airily.

The man shook his head. “The boss is… otherwise engaged this evening. I speak for him.”

“Couldn’t be bothered to meet me in person,” Q tutted. “I must say, I am unimpressed.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what he was capable of,” the man sneered. “Anyway, why should I believe you?” He began circling like a shark, eyeing him with contempt. “You look like you should still be in uni, not running a department in MI6. What proof do you have that you are who you say you are?”

“I believe your boss mentioned that Danny is my brother, did he not?” Q removed his glasses, staring at him evenly. “I’ve been told the resemblance is rather striking.”

The man studied him for a moment before glancing back at Danny. “So it would seem,” he said. “Very well, Quartermaster. We have a deal.” He beckoned two armed men to his right who stepped forward, taking Q by the arms. He made no fuss.

“Ethan, _you can’t do this!_ ” Danny was frantic _._ The grip on him tightened once more. “You know what’ll happen! Ethan, _please-_ ”

“Might we have a moment?” asked Q, his tone subdued. “I would like to say goodbye to my brother.”

The man studied him for a moment, glancing between the two suspiciously. Then, apparently seeing no threat, he gave a nod. The men on either side of Q released him, taking a step back.

The second Danny was released he ran straight to Q, flinging his arms around him in a crushing hug. “Please, Ethan,” he sobbed against his shoulder. “You _can’t-_ ”

Q held him tightly. “Shh, it’s alright, Danny,” he said, carding a hand through his hair. His hand came to rest on the back of his neck, holding him there until Danny felt his breath on his ear. His next words were barely audible. “When I tell you to, run.”

Danny pulled back, searching those hazel eyes as Q held his face between his hands.

There was a glint in his eyes as he whispered, “Trust me.”

“Alright, enough,” came the voice behind Q. “Time to say goodbye.”

Q turned to him, breaking into a grin. “Goodbye.”

Then a lot of things happened very quickly.

He heard the roar of an engine before a car came barreling down the street, executing a ninety-degree turn before skidding to a stop, the headlights nearly blinding him. As he stood momentarily stunned, two gun turrets emerged from the front of the car on either side of the headlights.

Q gripped him tightly by the arm. “Run!”

And they ran.

A barrage of gunfire exploded behind them as they ducked between the stunned guards. They didn’t stop running until they came to the corner of the building, ducking around just as a bullet whizzed past their heads. Danny turned as a man cried out and fell to the ground- just in time to see Alex lower his gun.

Danny stood transfixed, blinking in the glare of the headlights as he peered out from behind the wall. Alex looked much like he’d last seen him; white shirt, navy blue suit and tie, polished shoes. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming. He was firmly brought back to reality as a couple of bullets ricocheted off the wall right by his head.

Q gripped him by the shoulders, pulling him back to relative safety just as a few more shots rang out. “Go!” he commanded, urging him further from the fray.

He let his brother lead him by the arm as they ran until they came to a concrete barrier left by the demolition team that was working on the building. Q shoved him down behind it before crouching beside him, both of them breathing hard.

Once it seemed that they were at a relatively safe distance, Danny chanced a glance beyond the barrier, finally getting a good look at the car. He recognized Eve Moneypenny in the driver seat, a fury in her gaze as the gun turrets she controlled made quick work of the armed men spread out along the wall. He caught the blur of a grey suit as James cut through his opponents with lethal efficiency; a force of nature all his own. He couldn’t see Alex from this vantage point.

“Keep your head down!” said Q, pulling him back against the barrier as he’d started to lean away.

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” he shot back, his tone bordering on hysterical. “What the fuck were you thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I had a plan,” he defended. “And so far, I’d say it’s going quite well.” They both ducked as a bullet exploded off a surface somewhere just behind them. Q grimaced. “More or less.”

“What? Giving yourself up and hoping you wouldn’t get shot before the others got here was your _brilliant plan_?” he snapped, hitting him on the arm for emphasis. “Did you think I’d ever forgive you if you _died_?”

Q simply gazed back at him, smiling sadly. It wasn’t until he lifted a hand and brushed a thumb across his cheek that Danny even realized he was crying. Overcome with exhaustion- mentally and physically, he collapsed against him and began to sob against his chest. And in that moment, in spite of the continued sounds of gunfire behind them, he’d never felt safer than he did in his brother’s arms.

* * *

It felt like ages before the sound of gunfire finally subsided, but the street was anything but quiet. Shortly after Danny and Q had taken cover behind the barrier, about a half a dozen armored cars came barreling up to the ruins of Babylon-on-Thames, quickly emptying a score of armed MI6 agents onto the street. Danny and Q were immediately whisked off to wait in one of the vehicles. When the medics arrived Q insisted he be seen, but Danny refused to submit to anything until he’d seen Alex. Reluctantly, he agreed.

Danny made his way along the road, Q trailing somewhere close behind, until he came within view of Vauxhall Bridge. There, standing beneath a street lamp looking out over the Thames, stood Alex. As though he sensed his presence, Alex turned, standing frozen as he met his gaze.

Danny moved forward, taking each step as though he was being drawn by the gravitational pull of the man before him. He did not stop until they stood barely two feet apart.

For a moment Alex stared at him with a profound sadness in his eyes. He seemed completely unable to speak. He lowered his gaze and took a deep, shaky breath. “Danny-”

He closed the distance between them and stopped his mouth with a searing kiss, bringing both hands up to cup his face. Slowly, tentatively, Alex began to respond in earnest, his hands first coming to rest on his waist, pulling him closer, then sliding around to his back until he was all but crushing Danny against him. He deepened the kiss, and it was as if they were exploring each other again for the first time. He felt like he was drowning, only it was the greatest feeling he had ever felt.

When they finally parted, Danny couldn’t stop smiling. He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, winding his arms around his neck. He breathed a contented sigh as he felt fingers trailing up and down his back.

“I love you, Alex,” he said. “Always. I meant everything I said before. Nothing else matters. Just- promise me I’ll never lose you again.”

He knew it was too much to ask; after all, in Alex’s line of work he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t be in danger. Just the same, there was a fierce intensity in his gaze when he answered.

“I promise. I love you, Danny. I don’t ever want to be separated again.” He leaned forward to capture Danny’s lips once more.

It felt like coming home.

* * *

Q allowed the couple a few minutes to themselves, but eventually the mother hen-ing took over and he insisted Danny be seen by their medical personnel. Thankfully he complied this time, but only- he thought- because Alex insisted as well.

Danny’s injuries were relatively minor. He was covered in bruises, but nothing was broken. He was a little dehydrated but the only real cause for concern was the cut on his ribs, which ended up needing a few stitches. By the time they finished patching him up in the medical wing of MI6, it became clear that he was quite finished with all the poking and prodding. He wanted to go _home_. Q stepped in before things got ugly, muttering to himself that he was behaving as badly as Bond- who was absolutely no help, and convinced the staff to let him take Danny home. He was exhausted and, he argued, would rest much better in a real bed than one of those awful cots in medical.

Alex, it seemed, had yet to reestablish a permanent residence since his return from America and so, Q decided, there was no reason not to have him stay as well. Q looked back over his shoulder, smiling fondly at the pair in the back seat of Bond’s Jag. Danny was fast asleep against Alex’s shoulder with Alex’s jacket draped over him. Alex appeared to be drifting off as well; his eyes half-lidded as he rested his cheek against the top of Danny’s head, one hand idly stroking his hair. As if he sensed eyes on him, he glanced up, meeting Q’s gaze. He smiled.

It was after eleven when they arrived at the house. Q got to the door first, trying to corral the attention starved cats that were positively yowling at the door so they wouldn’t get underfoot.

Danny regained consciousness long enough to wrap his arms around Alex’s neck as he lifted him out of the car before going right back to sleep with his head on his shoulder. Q led them to the guest bedroom where Pascal already sat perched on the bed. He sighed.

“This one’s sort of claimed him,” he said, struggling to dislodge the feline as he squirmed in his grasp.

“It’s fine,” said Alex with a small smile, laying Danny on the bed.

Q gave up the struggle and Pascal immediately resumed his perch, curling against Danny’s side. He shook his head. “See what I mean?”

“As long as he doesn’t mind sharing,” Alex grinned, scratching Pascal between the ears before reaching down to pull off Danny’s shoes.

They worked together to get Danny out of his clothes, much to Pascal’s irritation as he was once again forced from his perch. Q felt his insides twist as he got an up close look at the livid bruises on his torso. It was a wonder he hadn’t broken any ribs.

Once they had stripped him down to his pants, they got him under the covers where he immediately curled on his side, still sound asleep. Q tugged the blankets up to his chin and threaded his fingers through his hair, marveling for a moment at how much had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Suddenly he was exhausted. After smoothing out the covers once more he straightened, heading toward the door.

“We’ll be just down the hall,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “Let me know if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Q,” said Alex. “For everything.”

He gave a nod. “Just take good care of him,” he said softly. “He deserves that.”

Alex met his gaze, his expression serious. “I will.”

He smiled. “Good. Goodnight, Alex.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

Danny awoke in the dark, aware of a warm bundle of fur curled against his chest and something solid pressed against his back. A hand rested on his hip and there was an arm beneath the pillow under his head. When he shifted slightly, the figure went completely still. He blinked in the darkness, slowly realizing where he was; safe, in bed in his brother’s house- and who the presence behind him had to be. He swallowed. “Alex?”

Danny felt a release of breath against the back of his neck and the arms relax, if only slightly. He rolled a little onto his back, just enough so that he could turn to see his face.

Alex gazed back at him in the darkness, a heavy crease between his brows. “I was afraid I’d hurt you,” he said simply.

Danny rolled onto his back, reaching down to lay a hand over Alex’s at his hip. He shook his head. “You could never hurt me,” he said, smiling softly.

For a moment Alex simply studied him. Then, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward and brushed their lips together.

Danny returned the kiss with interest, reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

“I’ve missed you so much,” said Alex.

Danny reached for his hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I missed you too, Alex,” he said, holding his hand against his chest. “More than you can ever imagine.” He allowed his eyes to fall closed. “But we’re here now.”

As he began to drift off once more, he felt Alex’s hand shift against his chest, a brush of lips against his temple.

“You should sleep.”

Danny nodded, eyes still closed, and rolled back over onto his side. “Stay,” he said, reaching for his hand once more.

Alex draped an arm around him, careful of the bandages on his ribs, and splayed his fingers on his chest, directly over his heart. “Always,” he said, his breath tickling his neck.

Danny sighed contentedly, relaxing against the strong chest pressed against his back, and drifted off to sleep once more.

* * *

When he next awoke, there was light pouring in through the window and Alex sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in shirt and tie.

“I have to report in,” he explained, reaching down to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I’ll be back this afternoon. I promise.”

“I understand,” said Danny, smiling up at him sleepily.

Alex leaned down for a kiss and Danny wound his arms around his neck. It was a few moments before they parted, both reluctant to let go.

“I love you,” said Danny.

Alex pressed another kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

It was a couple more hours before Danny finally dragged himself out of bed. He gathered some clothes and shuffled off to shower, his body aching in protest. But once he got under the hot water he felt his muscles relax and he took his time.

He was a bit taken aback by his reflection in the mirror, standing with a towel around his waist. The bruises _did_ look awful, and he understood a little better why Alex had been afraid to touch him.

He dressed in a well-worn pair of jeans and a grey sweater before wandering into the living room, expecting to find his brother in his usual spot on the couch. His laptop sat on the coffee table, but he wasn’t there.

“Ethan?” he called, not finding him in the kitchen either.

“In here, Danny.”

Frowning, he followed the sound of his voice through the kitchen into the little used dining room. There he found his brother sitting at the table, a barely touched mug of tea pressed between his hands. James stood against the wall behind his shoulder, arms folded tightly across his chest.

“How are you feeling?” asked Ethan, looking up at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Fine,” he answered.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Danny’s gaze shifted between the pair. He could feel the tension in the room. “What’s going on?”

Ethan opened his mouth to reply, but he hesitated, turning instead to address the man over his shoulder. “James, could you give us a moment? Please?”

James stared at him with stormy blue eyes, a silent exchange passing between them. “Alright,” he said finally, pushing away from the wall. As he slipped past Danny, the older man’s hand rested briefly on his shoulder; an unusually affectionate gesture that somehow caused something like worry to begin gnawing at his insides. But the moment past and James said nothing as he slipped from the room.

“Danny,” said Ethan, regaining his attention. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

Danny frowned, but he found his feet carrying him forward just the same. He sat down numbly, staring at his brother. “Ethan, what’s going on?” he said anxiously. “Did something happen? Is it Alex?”

He shook his head. “No, love,” he answered, reaching across to lay a hand over his. “Alex is fine. He’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “There’s- something else I need to talk to you about.”

Danny felt his heart rate begin to climb. “Ethan, you’re scaring me…”

He took a breath. “Danny,” he began, not releasing his hand. “Do you remember when James came and got you from the police station? How they were getting ready to take your blood?”

He nodded. “Yeah, so?”

“James took it and had it analyzed,” he continued. “The syringe I mean. Danny, it-” he took a breath. “There were traces of DNA. It tested positive for HIV.”

For a moment Danny stared at him, the weight of his words slowly beginning to sink in. “But- it’s fine then. James came in before they could… They didn’t have a chance to-”

Ethan nodded. “No, they didn’t. But, Danny…” he struggled for words. “The other night, when they took you-”

Suddenly, Danny understood. His heart stuttered in his chest. “They drugged me,” he said weakly. “They injected me, they-” He turned to his brother with wide eyes. “You don’t- you don’t think they-”

Ethan took a breath. “I believe it is unlikely, but… we want to be sure.”

Danny nodded, but is suddenly felt as if the world had fallen away beneath his feet. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when he’d just gotten Alex back. _Alex_. His breath was starting to come in gasps. “Oh, god-”

Ethan pulled his chair closer, reaching up with both hands to cup his face. “Danny, listen to me,” he said gently. “Take a breath. We don’t know anything for certain, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.” He pulled him closer, holding him tight against his chest and rubbing circles on his back until his breathing began to even out. “It’ll be alright.”

Danny nodded against his chest, pulling back and rubbing at his eyes. “No, you’re right. We just-” he took a deep breath. “We just need to be sure.”

“If you like, we could, um- we could go back into Six to have you tested,” said Ethan. “Have the results almost immediately.”

He shook his head. “No. There’s, um- there’s a clinic I use,” he answered, “not far from my place. I’d rather go there. And they’re always pretty quick about it.”

“Alright,” said Ethan. “Do you want to wait for Alex? I’m sure he’d-”

“No,” he said, rising from his seat. “I don’t want to say anything to Alex. Not until I know something for sure.”

“Then let me come with you,” he said.

Danny paused. “Ethan, you don’t have to-”

“And there’s no reason for you to do this by yourself,” he answered. He rose to his feet and took a step towards him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Danny, you don’t have to go through this alone. Please… let me come with you.”

Danny stared at him for a moment, feeling something twist inside him at the sincerity in his gaze. He took a breath. “Okay.”

* * *

Q hated hospitals. Or any medical facility for that matter. There was just something about the smell of antiseptic and the crisp, clean uniforms of the staff that always made him anxious. He couldn’t even stand to spend time in the medical wing of MI6; even when some of the projects in Q-branch called for their collaboration. Still, there was nothing that could keep him from Danny’s side right now.

They sat quietly in the waiting area while Danny filled out paperwork. Across from them sat James in his Burberry coat, looking at ease to the untrained eye, but Q noted how he constantly surveyed the room, keeping the exits in his line of sight at all times. While some may find it disconcerting, Q found that he took comfort in his vigilance; especially where Danny was concerned.

When they called Danny back, Q followed close behind, sparing James a quick glance as they passed. The older man gave an encouraging nod.

He took a seat in one of those awful plastic chairs while Danny sat on the edge of the cot, giving his full attention to the clinician as she explained the testing process. He put on quite an air of calm, but Q could see the way his hands trembled in his lap.

He watched as the clinician pricked his finger, taking the sample and promptly exiting the room. Once she’d left, Q rose from his chair and crossed the room, taking a seat beside Danny on the cot so that their shoulders touched. Danny was staring down at the cotton ball pressed between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m scared, Ethan,” he admitted softly, not lifting his gaze.

Q slipped an arm around his shoulders, pressing him against his side. “It’ll be alright,” he said, rubbing his arm. “No matter what happens. I promise. You’re not alone, Danny. You are surrounded by people who love you very much and that is not going to change; in spite of what you may be thinking right now.”

Danny drew a shaky breath, resting his head against his shoulder. “But what if it _is_ positive? Alex wouldn’t possibly want to-”

“Alex loves you very much,” said Q firmly. “I believe he’s done well to prove that in the past twenty-four hours. He’s not going anywhere, Danny. Of that I’m certain.”

Danny nodded, but there was a heavy crease in his brow.

They sat like that in silence, waiting for the clinician to return; all Q was aware of being the sound of their breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall like a drum pounding in his ears. When the door finally opened he felt Danny tense beside him and he held him tighter. The clinician strode into the room and came to a stop in front of them, glancing between the two with kind eyes. She smiled softly as her gaze came to rest on Danny.

“Negative,” she said. “You’re all clear.”

He stared at her. “You mean- I’m clean?”

She nodded. “Yes, Danny. No sign of the antibodies associated with the virus. Keep using safe practices and you have nothing to worry about.”

“You see?” said Q, giving him a squeeze. “I told you it’d be alright.”

For a moment Danny seemed stunned. He said nothing, and then his eyes began to fill with tears.

Q rubbed his shoulder. “Danny-?”

Danny shook his head, smiling even as the tears began to slip down his cheeks. “Sorry. I just… I’ve never been so relieved in all my life.”

Q wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tighter as he cried against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to his hair, blinking back tears of his own. “It’s alright,” he said, rocking him gently. “Everything’s alright now.”

He rested his chin on top of his head, smiling up at the clinician warmly. “Thank you,” he said.

She smiled and gave a nod, slipping from the room.

Alone in that sterile room, Q continued to hold his baby brother close, content to have him healthy and whole and _here_ \- against all odds and in spite of all the mistakes they’d made; together and apart. Danny was the only family he had, but they were bound by so much more. He vowed to never take him for granted again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrestled with the idea of even "going there" with the whole HIV thing for a long time. Like a lot of London Spy fans, I was really angry with Tom Rob Smith for pulling that card in the show and worried it might be just as wrong for me to even bring it up. But the way I look at it- for the purpose of this fic at least, I wanted vindication. I think some of you might as well.
> 
> I really hope Danny and Alex's reunion met everyone's expectations! Prepare for a fluffy epilogue. (Which I can't wait to write.)
> 
> Thank you all again so much for your support. Please share your thoughts! :)


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the fluffy epilogue! Sexytimes up to the first break (this is the closest I can get to smut you guys, I'm sorry...) I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Morning light filtered in through the window at his back as Danny opened his eyes, a brush of lips behind his ear having roused him from sleep. He stifled a yawn, smiling as a warm hand rested on his hip and another kiss was pressed behind his jaw. “Morning,” he greeted sleepily.

“Good morning,” answered Alex, trailing kisses down the side of his neck to a bare shoulder.

Danny rolled onto his back, smiling up at Alex propped on an elbow beside him, his hair still damp from the shower. “How was your run?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Fine,” he answered, leaning down to capture his lips in a lingering kiss. He braced an arm against the mattress at his other side, effectively fencing him in as he began pressing lazy kisses along his jawline and down his throat. “James and Q have gone to work,” he said against his collarbone.

 _Ah._ Danny hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes falling blissfully closed as Alex continued his ministrations, placing gentle kisses and nips along his torso. He paused as he reached a point along his ribs, fingers brushing a faded scar; a pale white line against his skin. Danny reached down to trail his fingers through his hair, causing him to meet his eye. Danny smiled softly, a silent exchange passing between them. Alex traced the scar once more with his fingers before following their path with reverent kisses.

He shifted further down, drawing out little giggles and gasps as his lips brushed Danny’s stomach, fingers trailing along his sides. Danny squirmed as he inched his way across his belly but made no effort to pull away- until he dipped his tongue into his navel. “Don’t! Tickles-” Danny whined sleepily between giggles.

“I like making you laugh,” Alex grinned, holding him in place with his hands on his hips as he continued pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there.

Alex finally stopped his teasing, but not before placing one last chaste kiss to his navel. Hands slid further down his hips, fingers brushing the waistband of his pants as he shifted lower. He tugged at the fabric on one side, baring a hip before covering it with his mouth. One hand rubbed along his inner thigh, eliciting a different sort of gasp.

“Alex,” Danny breathed as he began sucking a bruise on his hip. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” said Alex, trailing kisses just above the waistband of his pants. He placed both hands on his thighs, parting his legs so he could settle himself between them. Danny’s heart fluttered in his chest as he nudged them up so that his knees were bent, both hands rubbing along the inside of his thighs. He gave a pleasant shudder as he pressed his lips to the inside of a knee. “Let me take care of you this time.”

Danny’s mouth went dry at the promise behind those words and he suddenly found himself unable to speak. Instead, he nodded.

Alex did exactly that and more. He took it slow at first, teasing him with kisses and gentle touches, carefully avoiding all the places he wanted to be touched. When he began to whine his need, Alex pleased him with his hands and with his mouth- but never to completion. Not yet.

For Danny, this was something completely new. He’d had many lovers, but never one who cherished him like this. And all the times he’d been intimate with Alex, he was always the one to take the lead. Having Alex in control now, taking him to the brink when he hadn’t even fucked him yet- it was intoxicating. By the time Alex was finally inside of him, it was almost too much. Danny clung to his shoulders, head thrown back against the pillows, the only word he could utter his lover’s name.

They reached their peak within seconds of each other, Danny with Alex’s hand between them, before collapsing bonelessly onto the bed. He held Alex on top of him as their breath evened out, pressing lazy kisses to his lips and along his jaw. _This,_ thought Danny, as they lay in a heap of tangled limbs, _I’d be happy with just this. For the rest of my life._

* * *

Had Danny had his way, they would’ve spent the rest of the morning in bed. But eventually Alex dragged him off to shower, saying something about an appointment; Danny going along only after he agreed to get in with him. Once they were both under the water he was fully awake and keen on repaying Alex for his earlier favors. Luckily Alex got them back on track before the hot water ran out, going so far as to wash Danny’s hair for him.

It was barely nine-thirty by the time they were dressed and out the door, Alex leading them away from Q’s house.

“Where’re we going?” asked Danny, looping an arm through his to get him to slow his stride.

“I made an appointment with a realtor,” said Alex. “There’s a place I wanted to look at but… I wanted you with me.”

Danny stopped for a moment, taken aback by the weight behind that statement. He stared at him, still holding his arm.

“I mean, if you want,” said Alex nervously. “I thought- I’d hoped you would want to come live with me once I found a place. But if you’d rather stay with your brother, I understand-”

“Alex,” Danny turned to face him completely. “Of course I want to live with you. If I could spend every moment of the rest of my life with you, I would be the happiest person in the world. I love you. I just… wasn’t sure you were ready to take that step with me.”

Alex nodded fiercely. “I want to,” he said. “I’m positive.”

Danny pulled him in for a kiss, winding his arms around his neck. When they separated he was beaming.

They walked arm in arm the rest of the way until they came to a three story house set on the corner of the lane. A middle aged woman with strawberry blonde hair pinned neatly off her face greeted them on the front step, taking Alex’s hand first. When he introduced Danny as his partner he felt his stomach do a little flip. She took his hand with a bright smile, beaming at the pair as she led them inside.

Danny felt like he was in a dream as he wandered through the house. The first level was open and inviting with plenty of windows to bathe it in natural light. There was a spacious living and dining area that he was already thinking of ways to arrange, and a cozy space nestled in one corner that could serve as a den. The kitchen was gorgeous; beautiful granite countertops beneath cherry wood cabinets, an island with a gas stove set in the middle. He realized he hadn’t heard a word the realtor said as Alex suddenly slipped an arm around his waist, bringing him out of his reverie. “Sorry, what?”

“She asked if you’d like to see the upstairs,” said Alex, giving him a knowing smile.

Danny nodded sheepishly and followed after them.

The upper floor had a guest bedroom with a pleasant view of the quiet little street below. There was a small bathroom off the hall with a glass shower, then a small staircase leading to the attic which, the realtor said, was more of a crawlspace that could be used for storage. Neither felt the need to explore. The master bedroom was large and open, nestled in the corner of the upstairs. It had a massive walk-in closet and the master bath contained a beautiful claw footed bathtub, which Danny immediately fell in love with. Glass doors led to a balcony off the bedroom, providing a lovely view of the city.

Danny discovered that they were alone as Alex stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close, chin rested on his shoulder. Danny leaned back against his chest, placing both hands over his.

“So, what do you think?” asked Alex.

Danny smiled, looking out over the London skyline. “I love it.”

“It’s not far from your brother’s house,” said Alex, as if he needed further convincing.

Danny turned in the circle of his arms and placed his hands on his chest. “Alex, it’s wonderful,” he said. “But the real question is; do you like it? And are you really sure about this? You know I haven’t got any money-”

“I don’t care about that,” he insisted, pulling him closer. “This house is near to work and the places I like to run. It has everything we need. I’m happy wherever you’re happy.”

“I’m happy with _you_ ,” said Danny, winding his arms around his neck.

Alex smiled. “Then it’s perfect,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

* * *

They went for lunch to a little café overlooking the Thames before Alex asked if he’d like to go for a walk. As they wandered hand in hand along the river beneath a rare sunny sky, Danny thought it impossible that he could ever feel happier than he did at this moment. Before long he realized their path had taken them to Lambeth Bridge; to the very spot where they first met what seemed like an age ago. They stopped to lean against the railing, looking out over the Thames.

“Do you remember when I told you that I didn’t believe in soulmates?” said Alex suddenly.

Danny nodded, feeling a slight pang at the memory.

“I was wrong,” he said. “The truth is, I was afraid. Afraid that you wouldn’t want to stay with me. That you would only get tired of me and would want to move on.”

Danny shook his head. “That’s never going to happen.”

“I’ve always been cynical,” Alex went on. “I’d never had anyone. So I didn’t think I ever would. But the moment I saw you, it was like I knew. I reacted without thinking. I just had to speak to you. Then when logic caught up with me, I ran. When I found you waiting for me that second time, I thought it must be some kind of trick. But you stayed. Even after all the ways I tried to push you away- after all _this_ ; you stayed.”

Danny smiled at him, tears pricking at his eyes at the sincerity behind his words. This was the most Alex had ever spoken about his feelings toward him. Danny found he couldn’t form words. Instead he simply took hold of his hand.

“What you said before,” said Alex, gazing down at their interlaced fingers, “about wanting to spend every moment with me for the rest of your life… Did you mean it?”

Danny nodded, bringing his hand to his lips. “With all my heart.”

Alex turned to face him, reaching for his other hand so that Danny turned as well. He took a deep breath, holding both of his hands between them. “Then there’s something I need to ask you. Because I meant what I said as well. I love you, Danny. And I don’t ever want to be separated again.”

Danny’s breath caught as Alex released his right hand, dropping to one knee at his feet. He barely noticed the small box he now held in his hand, hazel eyes searching his face. Around them people were beginning to stare.

Alex met his gaze, taking a breath to steady himself. “Daniel Edward Holt,” he intoned as if they were the most precious words he had ever spoken, “will you marry me?”

For a moment Danny stood in stunned silence, one hand over his mouth while the other trembled in Alex’s grasp. Tears slipped down his cheeks as it took a few attempts to get his voice to work. “Yes,” he finally managed, nodding for emphasis. “A thousand times, yes.”

He barely registered the band slipping onto his finger before Alex got to his feet and Danny was kissing him as though he needed the air from his lungs to breathe. There was a smattering of applause from a few bystanders, but they were too wrapped up in each other to notice. He’d been wrong before, Danny thought. He could never feel happier than _this_.

* * *

_Six months later_

 

Q stood at the bedroom mirror, cursing his stumbling fingers as he tried- and failed- to tie his tie for the fourth time. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were still unbuttoned, but he’d at least tucked in the tails, his dinner jacket draped on the end of the bed. He shifted his weight in shiny black oxfords, growing increasingly frustrated as his tie refused to cooperate. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and cursed. He’d really wanted to leave ten minutes ago.

“James,” he called, “please tell me you’re almost ready.”

James emerged from the bathroom, adjusting the cuffs beneath his jacket; impeccable as always. But then he dressed like this on a regular basis. “Ready when you are, darling,” he grinned, taking in his state of half dress. “Need a hand?”

Q heaved a sigh, dropping his hands to his sides. “Apparently I can’t tie a bloody bowtie to save my life,” he grumbled.

James stepped up behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Then you should have just asked me,” he purred in his ear. He immediately went to work, reaching around him to straighten out the fabric, deft fingers tying a perfect knot in a matter of seconds. He worked his way around, straightening his collar before bringing his hands to rest on his shoulders once again, giving them a squeeze as he brushed his lips behind his ear. “You need to _relax_.”

“I’ll relax when it’s over.” Q studied his reflection in the mirror, noting how his hair _had_ been tamed by a bit of product a few moments ago until he had raked his fingers through it in frustration. He repeated the action now, hoping to put it back in order, only to have James stop his hands with his own. He stepped in front of Q, retrieving a comb from his jacket. “I just want everything to be perfect,” said Q, allowing him to tame his unruly curls. “He deserves that. They both do.”

“It will be,” James assured him. Satisfied with his work, he pocketed the comb and turned to retrieve Q’s jacket from the bed. He waited for him to sort out his sleeves before helping him into it, taking care to smooth out any creases. With his Quartermaster fully dressed he took a step back, icy blue eyes roving over him appreciatively. He hummed his approval. “I should take you to my tailor more often.”

Q flushed. “James-”

“Everything will be fine,” he said, placing both hands on his waist. “Stop worrying.” He pulled him closer, placing a few kisses along his jaw and bending lower to scrape his teeth along the side of his throat. “Just think of what I’m going to do to you later when I have you to myself in that suit.”

“Not helping,” Q growled, meeting his lips in a hungry kiss just the same. Suddenly he pulled back, pressing his hands against chest. “The rings-”

“ _Relax_ , Q,” said James, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve got them here. Now, come on. We don’t want to be late.”

* * *

They weren’t late, which was mostly due to James’ reckless driving. Q was just happy to be on time and in one piece. They separated upon arrival, Q going to wait with Danny and James with Alex until the ceremony began.

It was an intimate affair, just as the couple wanted it. Witnesses included Pavel and Sara- Danny’s friends and former flat mates, and Scottie, of course, seated toward the back. Eve Moneypenny was in attendance accompanied by the bloke she was dating in medical. Gareth Mallory was there and Bill Tanner with his wife. A couple of Alex’s professors and colleagues were in attendance as well. Both Danny and Alex had invited their parents out of a sense of duty, but were neither surprised nor particularly disappointed when they didn’t show. James and Q served as groomsmen, flanking the couple on either side. If Q cried when they exchanged their vows, he did his very best to hide it.

Q and James stood at the end as those in attendance moved through to congratulate the couple, waiting until the last. When Scottie had given his well wishes and turned to leave, Q was surprised as he stopped in front of him.

“Ethan,” he greeted cordially.

“Scottie,” Q nodded, aware of James’ presence at his elbow.

“It would seem that I owe you an apology,” said Scottie. “I misjudged you, and I’m sorry. You were very young when we first met, yet you carried much on your shoulders, as you do now. I can see now that you have only ever done what you felt was best for your brother, and for that, I believe, he owes you his life.”

“Thank you, Scottie,” said Q, at a loss as to what else to say.

“Can you forgive a stubborn old man?” asked Scottie, offering his hand.

Q gave a nod, smiling as he clasped his hand between his own. “I believe we both have always had Danny’s best interests at heart. Though we may have seen things differently. You’re a good friend, Scottie.”

The older man smiled and patted him on the shoulder, giving James a curt nod as he took his leave. Q watched him go without another word. They had said all that needed to be said.

James met Alex with a handshake and a clasp on the shoulder, but Danny managed to get a hug out of him. Q hugged Alex, who was beginning to accept that his brother-in-law was the affectionate type, congratulating him once again. When he got to Danny he held him close, feeling tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m so happy for you,” he breathed in his ear as Danny hugged him back tightly. “You deserve this. I hope to always see you this happy.”

“You’ll be next,” whispered Danny with a smile in his voice. “I’m sure of it.”

Q gave a breathy laugh.

“You will.”

He smiled. “We’ll see.”

* * *

They rode together in the back of a limousine to the reception, Danny and Alex attached firmly at the hip. Danny was positively glowing as he sat nestled against his side, their fingers laced together as he studied their rings. He turned to his brother. “Alright, Ethan, what’s your big secret?” he prompted. “Are you going to tell us why you insisted on holding the rings for the past two weeks?”

Q smiled, sparing James a conspiratorial sideways glance. “Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Those rings are my wedding gift to you both,” he said, indicating their intertwined fingers, “I’ve modified them with a technology of my own design.”

Alex studied the metal bands. “They don’t look any different,” he said.

“Precisely the point,” said Q. “To the naked eye they are ordinary wedding bands, but I have infused the metal with nanotechnology which can be used to track your locations with pinpoint accuracy as well as monitor vital signs. I’ve written an application that can be programmed into your phones so that you can access the details at any time. Of course, I’ve designed it to be inconspicuous. Only you will know exactly what you’re looking at. It contains a distress function which will alert the other of trouble, as well as myself; as I have the master program. But this way as long as you wear your rings, no matter where you are, you will always have the ability to keep track of one another and keep yourselves safe.”

“Q,” said Alex, studying the bands with renewed interest, “that’s brilliant.”

Danny seemed at a loss for words. He leaned forward, pulling his brother into a hug. “Thank you, Ethan,” he said. “This is the best wedding present we could’ve ever asked for.”

Q smiled.

* * *

 

The reception lasted well into the evening, Q growing more convinced by the minute that James and his brother were conspiring to get him spectacularly drunk. Presently, he sat at a table with Alex- an apparent victim of their schemes as well- the two of them engrossed in an intense discussion of mathematical theory while some catchy dance club mix played behind them. Both had discarded their ties some time ago, shirt collars hanging half open.

Danny, who had been dancing with Eve for the past half hour or so, drifted over to the table with drinks in his hand, setting one in front of Alex before downing his in one go. “Dance with me,” he said, tugging at his arm.

Alex, it seemed, would never be able to resist that smile. He downed his own drink before rising to his feet, allowing Danny to pull him by the arm out into the middle of the floor.

Q watched them fondly from the table, laughing at how awkwardly Alex tried to adapt to this kind of music. Danny looked like he was having the time of his life. He took a sip from his drink, relaxing in his seat, until an arm snaked out from behind his chair, calloused fingers sliding along his throat. He tilted his head back, eyes falling blissfully closed as James devoured him in a hungry kiss. “007,” he greeted silkily, smiling at him upside-down.

James grinned. “Q.” He kissed him again, enjoying the control he had at this odd angle, before moving to his side. “Come and dance with me.”

He quirked an eyebrow at him. “Very funny, James,” he said. “You know I’m a terrible dancer.”

“It’s a wedding,” he reasoned. “Everyone dances at weddings. Now come on.” He held out his hand. “Dance with me. I dare you.”

Q met the challenge in his gaze with narrowed eyes. Then he reached for his drink, finishing it in one go. “Fine,” he said, rising to his feet a bit unsteadily. “But only because it’s my brother’s wedding. And I probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

James smirked as he took him by the hand, pulling him out onto the floor. “Then I’ll be sure someone catches it on video.”

“James!”

Danny cheered as the pair stepped onto the floor, James giving him a wink as he pulled Q along, not stopping until they stood nearly in the center. “You two planned this,” he accused as James turned to face him.

“Of course,” he answered, placing his hands on his waist and pulling him closer.

Q finally gave in and wound his arms around his neck, feeling a bit like a teenager as a slow ballad began to play and they swayed to the music. Away to his left, Danny and Alex were similarly entwined, gazing at each other as if the moon and the stars rose in their eyes. He smiled as James pressed his nose to his hair.

“You have a great deal to do with that, you know,” said James, nodding in their direction.

Q hummed. “So do you.”

“But you were the brains behind the whole thing,” said James. “I just stole a car.”

He laughed. “Well the car turned out to be quite necessary.”

“Does that mean I have permission to steal more cars in the future?” he smirked.

Q tugged on his ear. “I’m already rebuilding the DB-5 you blew up-”

“ _Silva_ blew up,” he corrected.

“Point being, I get into enough trouble with all the tech you destroy without consequence for you to start stealing cars as well,” said Q. “That was a special circumstance. _And_ the car was brought back in one piece. Don’t push it, James.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

There was a great deal more alcohol involved as the party went on, which Q would blame entirely for what followed. But if Moneypenny spread embarrassing footage of his dancing around Q-branch the next day, it was entirely worth it. He had never seen his brother so happy and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure he stayed that way. To the end of his days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> I can't believe we're here. I can't thank you all enough for all the love on this fic. If you have enjoyed my writing, fear not! I have a Spectre fix-it sequel planned for this that I'll start working on soon. But first, there is a 00Q one-shot I've been dying to write.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you'd like at http://ao3-brihna.tumblr.com/ I love to chat! :)


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